


Oneshots

by Cerberos



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe, Attempt at Humor, F/M, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2018-04-19 10:32:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 106
Words: 79,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4742981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerberos/pseuds/Cerberos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on Tumblr prompts. Unbetaed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Akafuri

 

_NOOOO. NO WAY. NO. HELL NO. NO FUCKING WAY IN HELL._

 

WHY??? Whyyyyy do mean things  _always_  happen to him?? Was he cursed?? As far as he knew he a  _nice_  person.Then WHY???

 

 

It had all started a week ago.

Kagetora-san had given them assignments that had to be completed at all costs within a week’s time. The clincher in that deal was that it accounted for almost 60% of credit. 

But  _of course_ he had to while away two precious days of the week gaming with Fukuda before even starting to research for the damnable assignment. Which made him eventually come to the realization that unless he foregoes sleep for the next four days, he would be in knee deep shit with no reprieve whatsoever.

And so, he manned up, hoarded an entire week’s supply of junk food, a bottle of Tums at the ready and started slogging his way through the cumbersome assignment. There wouldn’t be a chance in fucking  _hell_  if he didn’t do this, he reasoned.

 

What he hadn’t expected when he submitted the report today (yesterday?) evening just before the clock ran out, with a smile as bright as the SUN on his zombie face, was to hear Kagetora-san tell him that there was a test he needed to complete to get the effing credit. 

 

But OF COURSE there HAD to be a fucking catch. 60% credit for just an assignment had sounded too good to be true. They just HAD to hand his ass to him this way. He knew, he just  _knew,_  fate would never be kind to him. Hadn’t ever been. Will never be. It had to be just a stroke of sheer luck that he had completed the assignment on time.

Pondering over his misfortunes wouldn’t get him anywhere, he thought, as he rushed to his room to frantically go through the notes for some last minute preparations. He needed to make sure that he knew what he was going to write a whole diabolical two hour test about instead of letting his sleep addled brain take over.

By the time he deemed that he had reached the if-I-am-going-to-get-screwed-then-so-be-it stage of learning, it was 1AM. Arming himself with his laptop and charger he went to the study hall thinking that at this time of the night, he can take the test in peace and then wallow in misery for the rest of the school year.

 

He thought  _wrong._

 

He stood there at the entrance of the hall and just  _gawked_.

 

Apparently everybody else had gotten the memo that it was a fun idea to take up the test at 1AM too. All the machines were plugged in and were being abused by fellow zombies. He searched high and low for a place to sit and get wrecked but to no avail. And excuse him for being a person who is not good with crowds. There is pleasure in solitude, thank you very much.

He heaved a weary sigh and resigned himself to the fact that he was going to not take the test and consequently fail a year before he remembered the Starbucks near the campus. He brightened up instantly and literally fled to the coffee shop.

 

The strong smell of coffee and freshly baked brownies calmed him down a little as he sat in the corner to finally,  _finally_ , take the exam. He ordered a soy latte with whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles, and taking a sip of the delicious drink, he opened up the browser to begin the fated exam. It was a mile-long questionnaire with a time limit of two hours and it had to be done online.

When he was halfway done with only 50 minutes left to go his laptop notified him : Sorry buddy, I love you but I have only 10% charge right now, so I am gonna die soon if you don’t feed me immediately.

 

His blood ran cold.

That brought him to his current disposition.

 

Raking a hand through his chestnut hair which hadn’t seen a shower in forever he scourged for a plug point for his charger before his dear grandmother-of-a-laptop decided to bail on him. He discovered to his ever growing dismay, he had been at THE ONE end that didn’t have a power source.

 

Oh, someone up there was having a free hand with their bitch pass. And as usual, HE was the bait.

 

He looked around to find two other corners filled with dead-to-the-world students like him using their technical accessories which were, unfortunately, plugged in, That left him the corner right across him.

The guy sitting there quite regally and sipping whatever he had ordered out of his cup was typing away at his phone. Kouki discovered with brimming relief that there  _was_  a plug point near him  _and_  he wasn’t using it. 

But Kouki felt like not moving an inch from where he was now. His self preservation instincts , which usually proved very very useful, were warning him to stay at a minimum ten mile radius from the red-haired guy.

 

Now that he looked closely the guy was what one would call beautiful. He had red eyes that were too big for his face, a really sharp aristocratic nose, high cheekbones and a killer jaw line. His red hair wasn’t exactly red either, it was more like crimson met magenta and had horny night. Sure at past 2AM, if the guy didn’t have a disheveled look, then there was a problem. He had a frown on his lovely face and his jaw seemed tense as well. At this his instincts warned him to NEVER do anything to instigate that expression.

Which riled him up quite a bit. After all there were only 45 minutes left and his laptop wasn’t going to charge itself. Well, he said to himself, fate has played with him from first, so if he was going to get screwed royally, he might as well do a damn good job of it. He steeled himself, carried his laptop, charger and latte across the shop, all the while his instincts screeching at him to stay the fuck away, and sat down near the drop-dead-gorgeous-but-very-pissed-redhead.

 

The guy looked up from his phone and fixed him a glare that would have frozen the Amazon. Though that made him shiver from his hair tip to toe nails, he chose to ignore it and fed his starved laptop its desired food. And only when his laptop thanked him by showing him the charging sign, he looked at the guy and said, “Hey dude, I am really sorry but i have this online exam that is essential to me hauling my sorry ass to the next year and my laptop was dying. Since you were the only person not using the station, I had to come here. So if you will excuse me, I will continue my path to self destruction now.”

 

He promptly chose to ignore the looks of go-up-in-flames the redhead gave him in favor of the task at hand. He, of course,  _felt_  the glares that the redhead sent his way (did he even blink?) but he stood his ground. Intimidatingly attractive or not, his future was more important. 

Soon thinking about solutions to different and extremely complex problems contained in the reservoir of questions that bombarded him from every angle at his half-dead brain made him forget everything else, stunning-but-irritated-redhead included.

 

It wasn’t until he had finished and had pressed the submit button with only one minute left to go that he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He had done it!! The feeling of exhilaration reverberated through his exhausted frame before he remembered where he was. Probably wasn’t the place to tap dance in joy. 

 

Sighing audibly, he worked out the kinks in his back and shoulders that had come from slouching in from his poorly lit laptop for so long. It was almost 3:30 and his week of minimal-to-none sleep was catching up to him. He felt like a zombie right now and couldn’t wait to drop face down on his lumpy mattress fully clothed and not wake up for another century. When he rotated his stiff neck to the side, he noticed that the redhead was still sitting next to him. Closer up, he noticed the redhead was even more attractive; his hair which was defying gravity at the moment looked super silky to touch, his red eyes with elongated pupils looked bloodshot and had bags underneath, his cheeks were a little sunken but that added to his I-am-better-than-Michelangelo’s-David look and he had a jawline to  _kill_  for. His fingers were long and lean as they typed away what-not at his phone and he wore a turtleneck that clung to him and highlighted his lithe features. He knew from one glance that guy worked out at the gym at least three times a week and probably had better abs than him. He could sense that he was strong too. He was positive that if they stood head to head they would be the same height. His musings were cut short when a silken voice snapped, “Are you done?”

 

 

He was shocked to say the least. Not only did the guy have a fine art body that he would sell magazines like hot cakes but his voice was like a siren too?? Are there even male sirens? Did they exist? Did they take up human forms and came to Starbucks at 3AM on a school night? He shook his mind clear of thoughts when he heard someone clear their throat.

“Aah, yeah! Done! The test went okay, I guess. Oh, i never got to thank you. Thanks man. I couldn’t have done it if you hadn’t let me.”

 

“Congratulations on finishing your arduous examination. Its the least I can say for someone who barged into my personal space, used it as there own, without so much as an apology, and after completing, is openly ogling at me.” He said sardonically.

 

Kouki did a double take. That didn’t sit well with him. He growled,“Hey, I had no choice. It was the only station available and you weren’t even using it. And as far as I can remember, I did offer up an apology. If you are going to be all high and mighty about this well too bad dude, you got the wrong guy.”

The guy looked like he was going to protest when he cut him off saying,”And besides, its not my fault you are breathtaking! If you knew I was drooling at you, you should have said so instead of letting me continue.”

 

 

“…..”

 

 

“…..”

 

 

“………did you just call me breathtaking?”

 

 

“…..”

 

Kouki felt his entire  _body_  flush at that, Oh holy crap. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud!! Definitely not to the guy’s face! His incredible face, he thought traitorously. He cursed his sleepy brain for not bothering to filter his thoughts. He looked down at his lap wishing the ground would open up and swallow him now,  _right now._ He chanced a glance in the guy’s direction to see if was more livid than he was before but felt his eyes widen slightly at the expression the other wore.

 

The redhead was blushing.

Blushing just a shade lighter than his hair from one end of his ear to the other and looking at him incredulously.

 

They both averted their eyes immediately when they realized that they were staring at each other for too long to be considered healthy.

 

Oh, but he _wanted_ to look at him. Again and again and again and never look away.

Kouki coughed and decided to take a leap of faith. Where was this new found bravery coming from, he mused. He held out his hand and with a tentative smile, said, ”Furihata Kouki, sophomore, T University.”

When his hand was gripped in a slightly larger, warmer and paler counterpart, he looked up to see the redhead returning his smile. Oh my. Be still, my heart.

“Akashi Seijuro, sophomore, K University.”

 

Maybe fate wasn’t so bad after all. It needed to be a pain in the wrong place to push him to his destiny.


	2. Kagakuro

 

OH WOW. 

 

_Oh my._

 

Now  _that’s_  what I would call a sex GOD, thought Kuroko, as he mentally drooled over the tall guy with the two toned hair and split eyebrows who was standing in line a few agonizing feet away from him.

*

 

Kuroko had started working in the local kindergarten as soon as he had graduated from college. He had previously worked there part time during college which enabled him to shift from part time to full time quite smoothly. He had taken on babysitting jobs as well to earn extra money during college which he hadn’t let go of even after graduating. He had discovered to his great delight that he had a special kind of magic with kids, infants and pets alike. They all seemed to calm down whenever he was near. The fellow teachers there considered him a role model in babysitting. Even the brattiest kid on the block would behave like a tame puppy when beside him.

He had started writing short stories for kids when all the stories in the small library of the kindergarten had run out. And soon what had started as a hobby turned into a full on passion for writing. He wrote stories of princes and princesses, of castles and dungeons, of fun and craziness and mischief, of dreams and wishes with morals and ethics mixed in them; he even wrote books on care and nurture of infants, children and pets. He became their famous storyteller and parenting counselor.

He was greatly encouraged by his friends to pursue writing parenting books as a career. He had his best friends Kouki and Shige to thank for putting in long hours of researching, outlining, typesetting and editing the entire thing before the book even reached the first stage of a pulpy manuscript. When the publishing company had accepted his manuscript, he was overjoyed. His stories were going to be published and nothing could equal the happiness that he felt that day.

He had started small and as in all businesses, his first outing had been less than remarkable. But he didn’t give up and this fueled him to gradually but steadily make it to the top. Now at the age of thirty, he became a family favorite author for children’s stories and his popularity as a parenting guru made him a household name.

 

He, however, remained bound to reality. After all, he knew, fame was but a fleeting breeze. In every book that he wrote, he would thank the people that made it possible from the bottom of his heart: his first best friend and colleague Shigehiro, his second best friend, brother in law and florist Kouki, his cousin brother and World Shogi champion Seijuro, and all the others who had provided their valuable inputs in making every book of his an actuality.

He knew that without their constant support, motivation, encouragement, kind words, gestures and most of all, faith in him, he wouldn’t be where he was today. Thus with every book he strove for improving on what was lacking in the previous one and made sure that he delivered on his promises. 

 

He wrote on actual facts based on extensive research and also from real life experiences. His books became a success mainly because of the stories and anecdotes in them about actual couples that made people connect to it on a real level. It made them feel that its okay to be scared, its okay to not know anything, its okay to learn at any age, its okay to lean on others, and it was definitely okay to make mistakes and learn from them. He observed all of his friends’ families for writing material to the point that after the seventh book was published both Shintaro and Seijuro forbade him from “spying” on the antics of their children. Not that it had stopped him. He personally thought they just didn’t want people to find out that they had both lost in the face pie eating contest to their kids or the fact that they had been tricked into entering the contest in the first place by Kouki and Kazunari. To be fair, that incident, when it  _had_  gotten published spiked the sales through the roof.

The times when the children fell sick, the times they brought a sense of joy, the times when their shenanigans went a bit too far, the worry, the anxiety, the panic, the helplessness, the happiness, the tears, the heart-swelling moments, the care, the solutions to multitude of problems, the too-soon-too-fast-too-precious-moments of their childhood, he wrote them all.

 

 

However, being the only person among his small group of friends who was still single at the spectacular age of thirty, sometimes he felt loneliness creep up on him. He wondered whether by writing what actually was a live journal of others’ family life, fate had decided to make play the role of guardian throughout his life, but he would feel his instinct politely telling him that he WILL meet a person who will make him feel as precious as Kouki made Seijuro feel. The bond that these couples shared was something he could only fantasize about. Sometimes they communicated via nothing but their eyes, and when he happened to see that it made him feel like intruding on a very private moment. Oh, how he wanted to have a conversation with someone with just a few meaningful glances! 

Intimacy evaded him as well. The last time he had kissed a woman was Satsuki when they graduated together from high school and that had felt so wrong to say the least. He had gone on dates with a few men after that but it had never felt  _right._  He eventually started resigning himself to the fact that yes, he was to play the role of an adorable, lovable, babysitter and godfather to his friend’s children and nothing more. 

It had been years and so many books and failed dates since then that he had lost hope entirely. He was not going to wallow in self pity though. He was a little disappointed, a little envious of what others had and he did not, but he was mostly grateful that he got to spend majority of his time with the lovely children that enrolled in the kindergarten. And it was not like he was not loved; he received fan mail from many many parents thanking him for his helpful advice and children who went Kuroko sensei~ every time he stepped into the classroom.  

 

*

 

Whenever he wrote a new book, he was meant to publicize it by going on a book tour and attending signing events at the local libraries. So here he was, on the last leg of the tour, sitting inside the cozy library of his hometown Tokyo, wearing a suit given to him as a birthday present by Ryouta, glasses that made his cyan eyes look even bigger, perfectly combed hair, polite smile on his usually expressionless face, fantasizing about the burgundy haired guy who was stepping up in line to stand in front of him and get his book signed.

 

He had noticed the guy as soon as he had entered the hall where he was seated. He was HUGE; almost the same height as Daiki but bulkier than him. His face had a permanent scowl etched upon it that made him look like he was going to kill someone, but he had a feeling that the guy was as harmless as a kitten. It wasn’t his fault he was born with a scary face. He had funny eyebrows too; they were split and all of this made him look like a scruffy wild cat. He looked about his age too, if not older. His red eyes were watchful as he carefully made his way through the throng of people taking care as to not jam into others accidentally. He had on black T-shirt and dark blue jeans that hugged his muscular _(godly)_ frame really well. He wore basketball shoes that he recognized as the same brand as Daiki’s.

The guy seemed to have a particular book in mind as he quickly made his way over to a particular aisle and picked a book from the top shelf. When he reached for it, Kuroko noticed that, he didn’t have to stand on his toes, his shirt had shifted slightly to reveal more drool-worthy abs (OMG, he licked his lips for they were suddenly very dry), the biceps on his arms flexed (oh my) and he thought he was a goner.

 

Now those were  _GUNS._

Was he getting aroused just by staring? That awoke him a little. This certainly was a matter to mull over. Was it a natural and healthy reaction to this particular but  _extremely_  attractive male or was he so starved that anything would do to quench his thirst?

No. He might have been in the desert for so long but he has NEVER felt this way towards anyone else. All the guys that he had previously dated had deemed him asexual and even when he wanted to correct them, he couldn’t find the words. What could he say when he was doubting himself at not able to feel anything? But this two-tone-haired hunk of a tiger had just made his skin tingle just by  _standing_  there near the bookshelf ten feet away. He had then picked up one of his books instead and came to stand in the line while reading it.

 

He is in the line, he is in the line, his mind chanted like an entranced puppy. He couldn’t control the smile that started to spread on his face. And after what seemed like the slowest minutes in the history of time, donning on a polite smile for nameless strangers as he signed their books with their desired dedications, finally,  _finally,_  the gorgeous redhead came to stand in front of him. No. He  _towered_  over him. 

With anticipation, fear, nervousness, excitement and so many other feelings that he couldn’t care to name, he offered a hand for the book with a small smile, ”Hello. May I?” 

“Uh, yeah! Here, thanks! You write pretty great! Makes it easier to understand. I was saved by it many times. Works with the kids like as if I put a spell on them or something. Heh.”

He had a deep, gruff voice that made him feel hot all over. He was shuffling his feet a little, scratching his cheek with his forefinger, not meeting his eyes and OH,  _was that a blush_? 

But why??

When Kuroko let the words sink in, he felt his throat tighten. Painfully. The guy had kids. He was taken. Taken. The one guy that he was beginning to fall for, if not already fallen for, was taken. He felt his insides churn and twist and writhe as the words resounded in his head again and again.

 

Years of schooling his expression came to his rescue when all he wanted was to scream and cry angry tears as he threw random things at the wall. He donned another professional smile, which even to him, felt fake and cold and lowered his gaze from the blazing red irises and asked,”Oh, then shall I make it to your family? I would require their names though.”

“Oh. Oh! Kagami. Kagami Taiga. Uh, I don’t have a family or anything. I am firefighter mostly, but I help out at the local orphanage as their cook. So that’s where all the brats come from. They kinda make my life hell. Ha ha. Don’t take that the wrong way, I prefer a life in hell with them than without them…..sir. They are adorable and I love them to bits but they make me really mad every time they play pranks or something. And yeah, reading your books helped me a lot in being with them without losing my mind, i guess. Except for singing though. When i sing, they start crying…”, he said with a nervous laugh as he rubbed his neck and looked down at his toes.

 

Good. For if he had looked at him then, he would have surely seen the mask slip and reveal an embarrassing blush. Really, his overthinking mind has to be cursed for all eternity. Relief had washed over him like a tidal wave when the guy had finished his short speech. 

 

The redhead was a freaking  _ANGEL._ He had practically fallen down from the heavens above. There was no other explanation to it. A do-good-fireman who helped out at the orphanage was a freaking HERO!!! And he appeared all gooey and shy which made a totally delicious cinnamon roll.

OH MY GOD??!! Where  _was_  he all his life??? He went thirty years of his life without knowing that his angel was working only ten blocks down?? He would have set his own house on fire, if he had known that the angel would swoop down and rescue him. Dammmnnn.

 

This time he smiled, the warmest he had ever, and quickly wrote what he wanted on the title page of the book and handed it to the captivating redhead, ”Here you go, Kagami-kun.”(that name sounded so perfect when he voiced it. No. not perfect. It felt _right_.),”Thank you for your constant support. For anything you need, you may look it up in this book. I am expecting to hear from you soon. Thank you.”

“Thanks a bunch, man! You are cool. Bye now! Lunch hour is up.”

 

 

Kagami turned and apologized the person standing behind him for taking too long and proceeded his way down the hall. The author was extremely cute and attractive with those huge bottomless pools for eyes and pert nose. He was looking so so pale and fragile during the conversation that he worried whether he had offended him or something. But soon, he had smiled and it wasn’t one of those fake ones he was using before; his eyes had smiled too. For some inexplicable reason, it had made his heart beat its way out the rib cage. That moment all he had wanted was to hug the life out of him, then make him food to put some meat on those bones of his. The cute guy had, in that soft voice of his that somehow reminded him of a gentle breeze, said he was expecting to hear from him. What was that supposed to mean? He looked at the book in his hand and flipped it over to the title page. There, written in that blue pen in a neat handwriting, was something that made him stop dead on his track;

 

_To, Kagami Taiga-kun,_

 

_With love,_

_Kuroko Tetsuya (_ _XXX - XXXX)_

 

_PS: Dinner would be lovely._

 

 

He slowly turned around with a dumbfounded expression on his face. He just  _knew_  his jaw was slack now and shock was written all over his features.

The teal haired male gave him an imperceptible nod and a small smile when he met his eyes; he doesn’t know how but he somehow just  _knew_  that the guy was smirking at him. He felt his face heat up to match his hair and he saw that the author also had a light pink dusting his cheeks that he found totally enchanting.

 

Somewhere in his heart (whatever it told, he followed since he had found that he was happier that way), he felt that this might be the best day of their lives. EVER.


	3. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for chasingstarfall - hope this cheers you up :)

 

Akashi was tired.

 

Really tired.

 

Tired-to-the-bone tired.

 

The super exhaustive 35-hour-shift had made him as active as a sack of potatoes and left him with the mental capacity of an eighty year old man. He couldn’t wait to be relieved of duty, go home and crash on his bed face down until tomorrow afternoon.

 

* * *

 

 

 

He never imagined that when he grew up he would be a police officer and serve the country. But the one time he had encountered them, it had changed everything.

He was the scion of the Akashi family. The crown prince to his father’s kingdom so to speak. He was expected to be perfect in all and everything he did. No one was ever meant to outdo him. The expectations set for him were meant to be succeeded and when he did, more were thrust upon him.

Three years after he was born, his brother Akashi Kei joined him in the asphyxiating world that he resided in. Kei was almost exactly like him; same cherry red hair, red eyes but he was on the leaner side; they were mistaken for twins most of the time. Both were groomed to be the perfect sons for their father’s huge conglomerate. The only difference was while he never liked looking over the business reports that his father sent to him to review, Kei seemed to enjoy reading it and finding loopholes in the contracts. While he liked his violin lessons, Kei preferred to spend his time in the library or in his father’s room looking over more reports. But both abhorred it when their father restricted their playtime and gave them extra homework. They felt their surroundings suffocate them.

Their mother was their only reprieve from this hell. She was their source of joy and pillar of support. She encouraged them to play basketball, make new friends and put a smile on their faces whenever they felt lonely or sad. She would always always make sure their father never went too hard on them and if he did, she would be the only person in the entire world who could stand up to him and reprimand him for his actions. To him, Kei and his mom were the only two people in his life that ever mattered. 

 

 

At the age of ten, he and Kei had sneaked out of the house to buy ice cream at the nearest convenient store; Kei had a sweet tooth and midnight cravings which made him whine to Sei about wanting to stuff his mouth with the pineapple ice cream available there and Sei couldn’t say ‘no’ to him and helped him sneak out. He still felt responsible for the actions of his seven year old brother and thus had gone with him after leaving a simple note on his bedside table to his mom in case she found out. He was sure that his father would never get up to check on them. He, at the tender age of ten, had already reached the foregone conclusion that ,to his father, only the business mattered and nothing else. Not his wife, not his family, only money, pride and nothing else.

 

They had finished eating their favorite ice creams and had just left the store to walk back to their house when got kidnapped. Men who were easily three times their size overpowered them, covered their mouths with their hands to muffle their screams and forcibly pushed them into the dark alleyway. They struggled helplessly against their hold but it proved futile. One of the big burly men took out his phone and called their house and informed that they were holding the Akashi sons for a huge ransom. He started cackling while talking on the phone and soon the others joined him. 

 

No sooner had he finished the call, sirens blared. They all turned their heads to the noise and saw Shiori running towards them. the moment she came near, she delivered a kick to the guy who held Sei and made him keel on the ground. One of the other guys charged at her with his knife as she bent down to inspect if Sei was hurt but he never got the chance; the police officers who had come at Shiori’s call surrounded them and slapped handcuffs on all the kidnappers. Shiori made sure that he and Kei were unhurt before launching into a tirade. She made them apologize thoroughly for their mischief and bow from the waist to the police officer who had rescued them. He patted their heads and told them to be safe at all times. Sei’s eyes were filled with admiration as he watched the police officer walk back to the van to take the criminals to jail.

 

It was safe to say that their father was livid when they came back home. However their mom saved them yet again from the majority of the wrath that their father planned to unleash onto the, That didn’t stop him from enforcing more grueling hours of discipline and etiquette among other things. They shouldered them all because they knew they had each other and mom to rant to.

 

 

When he turned eighteen, Sei knew his interest lay in a field other than what his father had mapped out for him. That one incident in his childhood had changed him monumentally. It had lit a fire in him that had yet to be extinguished. 

He wanted to be able to protect someone. 

He wanted to be able to shield his mother and his dear brother the same way that they had always shielded him. 

He wanted to be able to command that kind of respect from the society for his service to the country and its citizens.

He wanted to be the guy who rescued kids from kidnappers when they sneaked out to buy ice cream.

 

He confessed as much to his mother and Kei on the night of his eighteenth birthday when they had sneaked into his dorm room in Rakuzan with cake and pizza. His father’s gift was a manila envelope full of college applications who were famous for their business and finance courses. Shiori and Kei had shared a knowing look before they burst out laughing after he haltingly stuttered his future plans. 

“We knew, Aniki. For a long time now. Eight years, in fact.”

“Ah, Sei baby, did you think you can hide anything from your own mother?”

“But....what about Father?.....He won’t allow me to pursue this....I do not know how to make him understand...”

“Aniki, are you possibly  _afraid_?”

“....No. I am not. Of course not. I just don’t want to be anywhere near him when he flips out. I am more about your safety.”

“Aww. Mom I never knew Aniki is such a tsundere.” He threw a pillow at Kei for that, who caught it easily without looking.

“But don’t you worry your poor sweet soul Aniki. I am more than happy to tell you that as of now, my interest lies only with the business empire and its mechanics and that you are free to go and achieve your dreams. Oh I need a sheriff’s badge as souvenir though. Or a gun, whichever you prefer.”

Shiori shook her head at Kei and said,”Don’t worry about your father. Its your life to live the way you want, honey. Now go, live it. I have waited too long to hear you finally say what I have been meaning to hear for the past so many years. So don’t let anything stop you now. We are here for you.”

 

He looked at them both; they were giving him a thumbs-up sign with both their hands and beaming at him. He felt like choking up. He felt tears prickling his eyes as he moved to hug his mom and his brother for the unconditional love that they gave him. For being his pillars of support. For giving him a new lease of life. 

A way to fly. 

A way to live. 

A way to be himself and do what  _he_  wanted in life. 

And so he applied to the police academy as soon as he graduated high school against his father’s wishes. He had received a lot of threats including being disowned by him which never materialized since his mother and Kei were there lending him their strength and he realized that he had stopped caring for his father’s opinion of him a long time ago.

 

 

Eleven years after graduating the academy with honors, he was promoted to be the new Chief of Police, Tokyo prefecture. At the age of thirty three, living in an apartment downtown, meeting with his mother every month once in Kyoto, catching up with Kei whenever he was in town or had a bit of a problem, doing the job that he wanted and getting paid for it, he was content with his life.

The relationship between his father and him was still strained at best and he preferred it remained that way. He never wanted anything to do with that man anymore. Though he would say that recently the meetings with his mother have proved to be arduous as well. ‘Recently’ extended to almost five years ago when she first heard about the news of Kagami and Kuroko getting married and started nagging at him to find his significant other.

He watched with detached interest as one by one his friends and seniors got hitched; Midorima and Takao but that was a match made in heaven after Kagami and Kuroko, Aomine and Kise (honestly he was surprised it had taken them so long to propose and Aomine had to literally beg for a two week off from him which he graciously relented), Nijimura Senpai who was the Chief of Police, Kyoto Prefecture to Mayuzumi-san who is one of their forensic experts, Murasakibara and Himuro-san but he had never seen them apart so he had assumed that they were already married, Miyaji Senpai who was in his division and Hayama and lastly Hanamiya Senpai and Kiyoshi-san (he had expected nothing less with all the tension they shared).

 

Sei, if he admitted to himself, felt a bit left out. He had literally grown up with these guys. They were like his second family. Basketball, fun and life. Their bonds ran smoothly even after they graduated and went separate ways. Work had flown fluently as well. He had spent many a night in Kagami’s house eating his delicious food and watching American movies or sitcoms when the gang got together or picking up a take away package from Murasakibara’s bakery for his stakeouts or enlisting Midorima’s services when needed during his job.

He had built great friendships with his ex-teammates’ high school teams as well. He had attended Hyuuga-san and Riko-san’s wedding, Imayoshi-san and Sakurai’s too. He had even become part of the point guard club formed by Takao and texted regularly with all of them. Takao or Izuki-san would be funniest people to talk to after a hard day of work and Kasamatsu-san was a person he respected and would request valuable advice from. 

 

But his favorite conversations would always be with his now best friend Furihata Kouki. He had previously dismissed the former as a trivial opponent and an unworthy challenge to him but he was wrong. He proved to be most loyal, trustworthy companion that he had ever had. He was cautious, witty, insightful, smart and brave when he needed to be. He was a successful novelist now and the way he wrote the characters of his novel showed how much into their minds he had delved into to provide a mind blowing thriller of a novel. His depictions were always so accurate and the way he wrote made all the readers feel the exact same things the protagonist felt. 

What he had found surprising was the way their thoughts synced. He could talk to Kouki for hours about anything and everything and enjoyed his company to the fullest. Sometimes he would pop over to Kouki’s house for breakfast or lunch and have discussions with him which made time fly. They would discuss character flaws or writer’s block that Kouki had and the cases Sei had been working on which had provided yet another dead end or a new breakthrough. and be each other’ sounding boards. Kouki’s inputs always proved to be useful and he hoped he was as useful to Kouki as well. He was his most trusted ally and the one person apart from his mom and Kei that he could entrust his life with. 

 

His brother and mother had taken to Kouki as if they were life-long friends when he had introduced them, so much so that whenever he met his mother in Kyoto, he was mandated to bring Kouki as well. 

Somewhere along the seventeen years that he had known him from his first year in high school, they had become roommates too. He was eternally grateful for that since they looked out for each other all the time; after a demanding day’s work he would come home to find Kouki had kept the tofu soup at the kitchen counter with a note on top of it or Kouki being an indoor person would stay cooped up inside his room for weeks and he would make sure to drag him for a walk in the park for fresh air to give him the break he deserved. They would rent out movies to watch every weekend, debate over what food to order, visited their friends’ house for dinner and basically became closer than they ever imagined to be. All of this culminated in Sei developing  _feelings_  for his best friend. 

_Feelings_ that made his heart skip a beat whenever Kouki gave him that wide, honest smile that seemed to light up the place and make him feel like he was the most precious person on Earth.

_Feelings_  that made his throat tighten whenever he saw Kouki’s encouraging messages on his phone or on the post-its stuck around the house when he was boggling his mind to crack any particularly hard case.

_Feelings_ that made his chest clog when Kouki would hug him tightly and listen to him and pat his hair reassuringly whenever he broke down and cried due to a case gone wrong which resulted in traumatic deaths of the hostage or innocent civilians or worse one of his own comrades.

_Feelings_  that made heat pool in his loins whenever they took a shower together due to shortage of time or whenever he saw Kouki almost naked with just a towel hanging low around his hips showing off his lean, slightly tanned body with his hair dripping wet.

 

He knew he should stop these unwanted feelings that had usurped every nerve ending in his body but he was powerless against them. When he had finally gathered the courage to confess about his ‘Kouki situation’ to his mother and Kei, they had proved to be most unhelpful.

Shiori had immediately started wedding planning and Kei had just facepalmed and told him that he was ashamed to ever tell anyone that Sei was his brother.

“Aniki, seriously I have to ask you, are you that dumb?”

He had proceeded to put his brother in a headlock when Shiori asked him,”Sei, leave him, and when are you planning to tell Kouki about this? I want grandchildren soon you know.” 

He released Kei and pouted,“...its not like he will say yes.”

Shiori and Kei had shared a look before they rolled their eyes heavenwards with an exasperated sigh.

”And to think for all these years I tried to emulate Aniki. What a wasteful endeavor.” 

“I never thought i raised my son to be so stupid in the matters of the heart. Oh where did I go wrong?!”

“If you both would somehow try to keep your dramatic acting skills at bay and provide me with a constructive solution to my problem, I would be very grateful.”

“Well, have you ever envisioned your future without him?”

“.......No. That train of thought is painful..please don’t ask that.”

“That answers your question, Aniki. You love him. And since he has for these seventeen years that you have known him has talked to you, became close to you, made you dinner, became your roommate, provided emotional support when you were a whiny baby - OW!! stop twisting my ear, you big baby! OW OW OW!! okay okay I accept!! Now let me finish. What I meant to say was he has stuck with you all these years without getting tired of you and considering how insufferable you are- don’t you dare pinch me- I am willing to put my money on the fact that he likes you too.”

Shiori had just said,”Tell him how you feel. I am sure that he feels the same way about you.”

 

But could he?

Could he risk his friendship with Kouki and tell him how exactly he feels about him?

He valued Kouki’s friendship more than anything and to just confess out of the blue would not only destroy what they had and put a strain on it but it also felt mightily selfish.

He had immediately reported back to duty after the meeting with his family and it had almost been 36 hours since then that he had spent in nothing but watching the activities the surveillance camera projected for the high profile case that he was currently handling and mulling over what do to with his ‘Kouki situation’.

 

Now that they had called it a night and dispersed to meet only tomorrow afternoon, he drove back home feeling his mind numb with every minute that passed. He unlocked the door to their apartment to find it dark. That was unusual. Kouki would usually leave the living room light on for him to come home and find the dinner packed and left on the table for him to eat. Then he remembered.

Ah.

How could he have forgotten?!

He almost smacked his head against the wall as he remembered Kouki mentioning weeks ago that he had a problem with his throat. They had together gone to visit Midorima who had told them that Kouki had tonsillitis (infected tonsils) which has to be removed. And today was the surgery.   

  

He made a decision at that moment. Swiftly he locked up again and drove to the nearest convenient store to buy a bucket of chocolate fudge ice cream and made his way down to the hospital. He knew he was supposed to be there for Kouki before, during and after the operation and should have provided him any kind of moral support that he needed but that hadn’t happened and he has to make amends. He had spent more than two days brooding over his feelings for Kouki that he had finally come to the resolution that he  _would_  in fact risk-it-all and confess. Even if rejects or accepts, his feelings towards Kouki would  _never_  change, he decided.

He used his ID at the reception to get in but unfortunately, visiting hours were over and he was denied. Takao who worked there as a nurse spotted him and assured them that he was family and hence allowed. He quickly thanked Takao for his help, he got a wink and a thumbs up sign in return, (had everyone but him was aware of his feelings for Kouki?? That was a disturbing thought, he mused) and slipped into Kouki’s designated room.

 

He saw Kouki sitting up on his bed, reading a book that he recognized to be one from their vast collection at home. The moment he entered, Kouki looked up, took off his reading glasses and smiled in his warm way that made his insides all gooey and squishy. The years passing by had greatly enhanced Kouki gentle beauty and had made him rather attractive. Plus the added mystery of being a murder and thriller novelist with a lanky frame, wild auburn hair, reading glasses, honey irises and unshaven stubble all made him very very beguiling. Oh shit. He swore that his cheeks were burning up. 

Damn it, Seijuro! Its just a smile. Get over it!

He sat near Kouki’s hip when Kouki patted the place and showed him what he brought for him. “Sorry for being late. I.....got caught up at work...I am truly sorry and I hope you take this as my peace offering.”

 

Kouki just rubbed his shoulder with his hand in a comforting way and shook his head. He lit up when he saw what was inside the bucket and looked at him with literally stars in his eyes. He put the bucket aside and hugged him. He returned the hug with full force and the comfort and familiarity and warmth that he found in it was what fueled hi to forge ahead with his confession.

He broke apart from the hug but kept his one of his arms loosely wrapped around Kouki while using the other to spoon-feed himself and Kouki the ice cream. When the cold ice touched his tongue, it calmed his jittery nerves a little and set the butterflies in his stomach to just hover instead of fluttering maddeningly.

He looked at Kouki intensely who looked back at him with just a mild confusion, silently prodding him to tell him whatever he had on his mind. That’s when it struck him. 

 

It just occurred to him that during the years that they had spent together, they had lost the need to use words to communicate to each other. They had become so in-tune with the other’s thoughts that mere words were incompetent to relay what they felt. They understood volumes from the little gestures, eye contacts, the mood shifts, the body language that the other gave. It astonished him that he had realized this only now when he was known to be the all-knowing person. 

 

This awareness cemented his belief that Kouki and he were meant to  _be_  for life and beyond. Taking a deep breath, he spoke,”Kouki, I have known you for years now. You are one of my most trusted confidante and a source of strength. Your keenness for details, your intuitions, your level of study and examination for your writing is admirable to say the least. When you moved into the near-empty apartment that I housed, it had never felt more alive. It became home for us. Our friendship, every part of it, the happiness, the sadness, the fights, the outrageous places that you took me to as part of your research and had me scouting the place down, the trips to the convenient store at 3AM for cupcakes, I love them all. I cherish every moment that I spend with you and will continue to do so. You have been like a rock to me all this time and I just .....wanted to say that you are....precious to me. I....what I am saying is...I have fallen in l-love with you Kouki. I have had a crush on you for a long time now but unfortunately I lack the courage that you possess. I understand if you don’t want to reciprocate my fe-”

He felt something poking his cheek and found it to be the spoon slicked with ice cream. He immediately squawked and rubbed it off with the back of his hand and looked at Kouki indigently.

 

Kouki looked at him with an indecipherable look and croaked,”Took you long enough.”

“Sssshhhhh....... you are not supposed to talk.....So you...um...like me as well?”

Kouki nodded, cheeks bright crimson but faced him head on. He felt his own face heat up to match his hair when Kouki leaned closer to choke out,”Are you going to kiss me or do I have to wait another twelve years?”

“You...you..waited twelve years? You mean to say that you had feelings for me for twelve years and didn’t say anything? Just nod.”

Kouki wanted to say something so he took out a paper from the nearby table and wrote while he looked on - Yeah sure, only a friend whom you platonically like would speak to you for hours, go out with you to places you go on dates to, move in with you and even shower with you. Seijuro I think I liked it better when you had the absolute Emperor attitude cus if you act like a dork all the time, I seriously doubt-

He snatched the paper from Kouki’s hand and threw it behind him and captured Kouki’s soft cheeks to pull him close to his face and whisper just a breath away from his lips,”Kouki, I love you. You are mine. And my orders are absolute.”before ensnaring those soft pink lips in a passionate kiss.

One became two and soon it became a frenzied makeout session where they poured all their long held emotions into it. When they broke apart for air, Kouki said with mock admonition,”I have waited too long for this. Take responsibility.”

“Gladly”,smirked Sei.

*

Outside, Takao held a hand to muffle his chuckles while with the other he sent the video recording of the entire thing to almost all the people in his contacts including Shiori with the message - I am thinking, SPRING WEDDING.


	4. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for shadowwinggirl on tumblr. Twilight AU. Jasper and Alice edition.

 

Kouki stood in the rain contemplating his life.

 

For an immortal, he didn’t have many memories that were worth reminiscing about. 

 

Immortality took away the pleasure of living, he mused. 

 

He thought about the time when he was turned, or in his case handpicked to be turned, by Hanamiya. He had collected a special set of men to be soldiers in a territorial dispute over a human colony. He had trained them to fight skillfully and with minimum collateral damage. He thought about the decades spent in fighting his own kind to establish supremacy and dominance of Hanamiya’s coven above others regarding whatever cities and villages they picked as their target. The fights were the worst in his opinion. He had suffered many a battle scar, his skin looked like a canvas of crescent shaped marks. 

 

He was gifted. He had felt it even in his human form (at the tender age of seventeen, he was of the opinion that it was his charisma; but later on, found out that it was much more.  _So much more.)_ He could  _feel_  things. Emotions, moods, even thoughts, sometimes, that emanated from whomever he focused his attention on. That was not all. He could  _make_ them feel what he wanted them to feel. He could bend people and vampires to his will. Newborns, being volatile as soon as they were turned, with their overwhelming strength were assigned to him to control them. It was for mainly this reason that Hanamiya still kept him around. He could make an entire room full of bloodthirsty vampires, calm or angry as he pleased.

 

He thought back to the time when he had befriended another soldier, if he could call themselves that, Kuroko Tetsuya. Kuroko survived longer than the rest and was good at fighting, though he hated it. He would feel like crying every time he fought even if he was incapable of shedding tears. He hated taking away the life of another. Be it a vampire or a puny human. Humans were mere food. They never knew who lorded over their city and refused to believe in their existence.

 

Newborns lose their effectiveness after a year of turning. Gifted ones like him were kept alive and with the exception of Kuroko, Hanamiya had ordered him to dispose off the rest. It was a normal, routine procedure that they followed among all others that were issued. But one night, when they were in the room waiting for the next newborn to enter, fire roaring beside them, Kouki sensed that Kuroko was not feeling well. The aura surrounding him showed fear, nervousness but had a strange sense of steel to it. He observed that Kuroko had pursed his lips, furrowed his eyebrows and the moment a red-haired newborn - Kagami, if he remembered correctly - entered, he shouted an apology before bolting with the him. He had been hard pressed to follow them (he  _was_  faster than them) and kill them both but he felt averse to do so. All these decades, he had lived only for the fight, for the blood, for territory (did that even matter?) for meaningless vengeance, that Kuroko’s betrayal to Hanamiya’s clan seemed almost like a prison break. Kuroko had finally found someone and he wasn’t going to destroy the happiness of possibly the one person he actually cared about in his entire existence.    

 

He felt the depression settle as he sifted through the years the same way as before. Nothing but bloodshed and fighting. Create more. Fight. Destroy the rest. Move to a new place. Rinse and repeat. It wasn’t until half a decade later that Kuroko came back to see him.

This time, he was properly introduced to his mate, Kagami Taiga. Mate. That was new for him. More than that word, what felt strange for him was the mood that they were engulfed in. It seemed….happy. Content. Joy. Acceptance.

He was flabbergasted when Kuroko told him about the places they had visited and of the vampires that coexisted in peace. How it was peaceful and there were options available to be nomads like them and no need for violence. He believed them because he knew they spoke the truth and also because he  _wanted_  to believe them. Anything to escape the hell that he lived in. 

 

In one conversation, he was convinced. He left Hanamiya, glad that he wouldn’t have to kill him, without a backward glance. He had been with his creator for almost a century but the bond between them was very fragile. Bonds forged by blood and very little else were too weak. He felt no remorse in walking away. 

 

He traveled with Kagami and Kuroko across the country, exploring the world that they spoke about, stopping only to quench his thirst. But the depression from his fighting years continued to plague him in this new life as well. No fighting happened in the years that he spent with them but still he felt regretful most of the time. Kuroko deciphered that he was at his lowest only when he was hunting. 

 

He could feel the emotions of the pitiful humans that he fed on as they died. He  _lived_  their thoughts as he sucked their blood. It sickened him. Part of him, what was left of his soul - if he even had one - died with his prey. He tried resisting but gave up when the thirst became too much to ignore. He felt wrecked for weeks after. The same pattern continued for years.

 

He took leave of Kuroko and Kagami and started to wander on his own, vying for self discovery. Anything to calm the storm raging inside him. Much like the one he was standing in right now. 

 

He stood outside a seedy bar and looked up at the darkened sky as the rain pelted him as if he were made of stone. He didn’t feel the rain, so the stone statue reference was right, he thought wryly. It was afternoon ; he shouldn’t be out here and should go into the bar for shelter till the rain stopped like every other human but he refrained from doing so. He hadn’t eaten in weeks and his eyes were almost pitch black instead of the usual blood red; if he stepped inside he wouldn’t be able to restrain himself. Staying out here was a better option to avoid a massacre but he could run the risk of exposure if he didn’t move soon. Weighing his options, he steeled himself, hunched his shoulders and pushed open the door of the bar.

 

The minute he entered he was caught, not by the delicious scent of numerous humans crowded inside the bar, but by the one - obviously non-human - entity sitting on the bar stool and smirking at him.

They hopped off the stool at the counter to skip and stand directly in front of him with an unnatural grace; unnatural even for him. He knew they were of his own kind, but that didn’t stop him from thinking that they were extremely attractive with their crimson hair and golden eyes and lean physique and perfect pale skin and a sinfully curved mouth that was right now pouting at him. 

 

It shocked him. In all his years of existence, more like a sentence, actions like this only constituted a declaration of war. But the emotions emanating from the stunning redhead, with the captivating smirk on those full lips that he found himself longing for, were  _nothing_  like he had ever encountered. The air was filled with……..anticipation, satisfaction, relief and……a sort of warm feeling that he couldn’t quite place.

 

“You have kept me waiting too long, Kouki.” the beautiful stranger said in voice like wind chimes but laced with a tinge of reproach.

 

He could do nothing but stare back before stuttering out in his own velvety voice, “ I-I am sorry!” and bowed deeply.

 

The stranger - the unearthly enchanting stranger - held out their hand and spoke in a soft, melodious voice, “Call me Sei, love. We are going to spend the eternity together after all.”

 

He took the hand without stopping to make sense of the statement or his own actions and felt the warmth of the hand in his. At the smile that tugged at his lips after seeing the redhead beam and after slowly, carefully interlacing their fingers with his, he  _finally_ felt hope. 

 


	5. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Twilight AU. Rosalie and Emmett edition.

He had everything.

Even in the years he had spent as a human, he remembered that he had had everything.

Wealth, social standing, looks, charm, respect, admiration, prestige, power - everything.

*

He remembered the privileges he abused, the power he exuded, the commands he mercilessly issued, the conspiracies around him, the plans to overthrow him, the farce that surrounded him, the lowlifes who attacked him and left him bleeding to his death; he remembered them all.

He remembered lying in a pool of his own blood awaiting death before being lifted by someone with ice cold hands, carried into a dingy cellar and placed carefully on top of a table. He remembered teeth biting into his skin at various places and something fiery flowing through his veins. He remembered his creator, Nijimura, asserting that he had done such an act only to save his life from certain death. 

He remembered, vividly, the fire that was searing inside him, the flames razing every fiber in his body to dust and turning him into something stronger. Much much stronger and more powerful than he had ever dreamed of. Something abominable. Something that was to be feared of by all mankind.

He remembered the feel of Nijimura’s hand in his as his creator sat by his side during the transformation. He remembered the explanations offered by his creator and his mate on what he was, what he will be, what he couldn’t do and what he was capable of and what lay ahead of him after this nightmare. He was told about the future of one single day that stretched to infinity. 

His capacity to store endless information expanded as he transformed which compelled him to hold on to his memories as a human with a vice grip as they threatened to slip away as he burned. He grasped onto every single memory of his eighteen years of human life regardless of their significance.

*

One particular memory stood out from the rest.

It happened on the night he was ambushed. He had finished work early afternoon and planned on spending the evening at Shintarou’s. His father had discouraged his friendship with him for the mere fact that he had married into the working class and to a male at that. The son of the director of a prestigious group of hospitals marrying a male bartender caused quite the scandal. He had been forbidden from going to the wedding of course, but that did little to prevent him from attending. He was partly curious to meet the person who had managed to break his stoic, uptight friend’s frigid exterior to successfully capture his heart and gain his undivided attention for life. Takao was every bit the polar opposite of Shintarou. Boisterous, ebullient, sarcastic, quick witted, extremely candid even with total strangers. The minutes that he had the pleasure of speaking with Takao were probably the funniest in his life. When he left the wedding (he was among the first to leave, unfortunately) he felt both peace and longing in his chest; peace that his friend was in  _very_ capable hands, longing because he didn’t have someone whom he could banter incessantly with.

 

When he visited their home a few months later, he conversed freely with Shintarou over a game of shogi. Kazunari was not due until hours later and that gave both men a chance to catch up on each other’s lives and play their favorite game. Time passed fleetingly and he didn’t even notice that it was actually late evening until Kazunari barged in, draped himself over Shintarou’s back and kissed him on his cheek before placing his chin on his shoulder. The chaste kiss made Seijuro sense a comfortable level of domesticity that he didn’t even know he craved for until that moment. And if that wasn’t all, the look that they shared spoke volumes. 

As they walked him to the door after dinner, arm around their waists, Shintarou kissed Kazunari on top of his head when he thought Seijuro wasn’t looking.

 

That bothered him.

 

For the first time in eighteen years he felt truly jealous of someone else. 

 

He had everything and at the same time he had nothing.

No one to share it with. No one to play pillow fights with. No one to tease. No one to share all his troubles with. No one to kiss him after coming home from work. No one to spend the rest of his life with. No one to come home to. No one to wake up to. No one to sleep with, cuddle with. No one to make him  _feel._

 

He was so engrossed in this sudden surge of despair as he walked his way home that he forgot his surroundings. He shook himself out of his melancholic thoughts only too late before the first punch landed on him. Though he was trained in self defense the scumbags easily overpowered him. Suffice it to say his body was just short of shattering by the time they finished with him. He remembered their faces, the demonic smiles, the jeers and the snickers, the curses and the kicks, the beer bottles broken on his head and their cackling laughter as they walked away satisfied that they had done enough damage.

 

It was his last human memory and wasn’t willing to forget even a  _single_  second of it.

*

 

When the three excruciatingly painful days of his transformation were at last over, he awoke to his new life as a newborn vampire. He learned, experienced and embraced the life of a reformed newborn. He looked at himself in the mirror for the first time after awakening for his reflection to show the same fiery red hair, picturesque face, lean but muscled structure; all the same as in his human life except for the deep crimson eyes that he sported now. All the broken bones were fully healed now. He suspected that the vampire venom had worked wonders in his body. He recognized the thirst for human blood but with proper guidance from his creator Shuzou and his mate Reo he could abstain himself from slaying an innocent being. With them, he preyed on animals to quench his thirst and control himself from attacking humans. Shuzou was known for not killing even a single human being in all of his 400 years of existence whereas Reo had slipped quite a bit during the first few years before he could adjust himself to this lifestyle. His own record was  _almost_  as clean as Shuzou.

 

He murdered all those worthless scum that had harmed him that fateful night, savoring every shriek of terror and scream for help. He took care not to get even one drop of their filthy blood on him or in him. At long last he had avenged himself.

*

As a vampire, senses get heightened. The power, the authority, the dominance, the confidence that he exuded as well as his intellect, his mind plays, his innate sense of calculating numerous forms of battle plans and his beauty in his human life grew exponentially. But so did his  _one_  fear. The fear of loneliness still plagued him. 

He watched his new family expand from being just him, Shuzou and Reo ; in the places that they lived, he was their adopted child though their physical ages were not more than 20;  to accommodate Kuroko as his new brother and three decades later, his mate, the wandering nomad, Kagami. When he was the best man at their wedding 5 years later, the feeling of loneliness intensified to the extent that even his thirst couldn’t compare.

 

One time, he left his family in Tokyo and wandered around aimlessly until he reached the forests near Kyoto. He couldn’t quite explain it but he felt a….pull? A weak pull but still definitely a pull worth checking out. It wasn’t like he was hard pressed for time anyway. 

Time had lost its meaning a long time ago even though Kuroko had disagreed and spoke in that soft voice of his, “Every minute spent with your beloved is precious Seijuro-kun. You can never take anything for granted. Especially the time spent with your mate.”

 

He forged his own path through the thick forest following the pull, all the time wondering how a mere human had even wished to traverse such a dangerous area in the first place. He wasn’t the only monster out there after all. His musings were cut short at the sight that awaited him in the small clearing in the middle of the forest.

He stood to the side, watching a huge, gigantic titan of a bear mauling a helpless, shivering brunet, one third its size. Under normal circumstances he would have left the pitiful human to his fate but the pull that had been nagging him was definitely coming from the shaking brunet. In one smooth move he threw the bear off the human and proceeded to tear it apart, all of which took only a few moments, courtesy his supernatural speed and strength. 

 

Now that he analysed it, he recognized what the pull meant. The expression worn by the brunet even when he was obviously grimacing in pain, with his dimples showing and his face red, held a kind of innocence to it. Such an expression bothered him. It reminded him so much of the looks shared between Shintarou and Kazunari; so beautiful and pure. 

 

He was suddenly flooded with the rush of feelings towards this unknown boy who seemed to be around 17 or 18. 

 

New unexplored feelings engulfed him.

 

He wanted the brunet.

 

He wanted him for himself.

 

As his mate. 

 

Now that he had acknowledged it, the pull became so strong that it was almost tangible.

But maybe he had acted a bit too late because by the time he had killed the bear and made a life-changing decision, the boy was close to saying hello to Death. He immediately seated himself at the side of the unconscious brunet to assess whether he was breathing or not and exhaling a relieved sigh when he saw the veins pumping steadily in his pale, luscious neck. 

He was injured, that was no surprise given that he had tried to take on a freaking  _bear,_  and was losing blood (which tested every bit of his resistance but  _by GOD,_ it smelled like the most intoxicating perfume in the world). 

 

He could turn the brunet himself but wasn’t ready to run the risk of drinking too much of that delectable blood while biting and inadvertently ending the life of the one he wanted to live forever with.

There wasn’t much time left; he picked up his precious bundle as carefully as he could and ran all the way at top speed from Kyoto to Tokyo, taking care not to jostle his future mate the slightest. Shuzou would turn him, he was sure of it. Not only was he an expert doctor and the oldest and the wisest among them, he always wished for Seijuro to find one to call his own. He had tried to hide his concern behind his gruff exterior but he knew what his creator wanted. And now he wanted it too.

 

He stayed near the brunet during the entire transformation process, never leaving his side even for a moment. He held the slightly smaller hand in his all the time and gave him sponge bath every few hours to douse even a little bit of the pain he knew his love was going through. He saw the hours go by as every wound the boy had disappeared and his skin lighting up to become as pale as his. He  _heard_ the venom breaking his human bones to create something stronger, much more stronger, made of steel and granite and impregnable. He held onto him tightly as he thrashed around screaming to stop the fire that was mercilessly eating away his bones and muscles and every nerve ending. 

He sang to him in hopes that it might calm him even a little and was pleasantly surprised to see it work to a minute extent. He explained to the aflame auburn haired, innocent human on what was happening to him and what he will be; the same way Shuzou and Reo had done for him. 

 

He often felt contrite for putting the brunet through this bitter ordeal and eternal damnation for his sake. He felt majorly selfish for this act and vowed that he will properly ask the boy once he awakes and  _will_  be satisfied with whatever answer he gets, rejection or not. He fervently hopes that will be a positive answer though.

 

Three agonizing days later, the brunet awoke to see the world around him with his sharp, new blood red eyes. He saw the wall mirror beside him to reflect his pale structure, fully healed body, chestnut hair, pert nose and eyes which are too big for his face. He looked at him and gave him a hesitant smile, “Are you the one who sang to me continuously while i was” - he shuddered while looking at the table - “…….burning?”

 

“Yes. Yes I sang to you. I can sing to you every day from now on, if you want that is.”

 

“…I would like that. Very much, in fact.” - he averted his eyes at that (if he were human, he would have blushed) - “I am Kouki….and you are?”

 

“Seijuro. You can call me Sei, my Kouki. Welcome to my world.”, he led out his hand. 

 

When his hand was grasped in another warmer, slightly smaller counterpart and they smiled at each other, Seijuro knew that Kouki was worth the wait. Worth everything that he had gone through to reach this point in life. And when he acquiesced to that fact, for the first time in the century he had existed, he  _finally_ felt peace.

 


	6. Akafuri

Ah. Saturdays. The spice of life.

They put the meaning in the phrase ‘Thank God Its Friday’.

 

He wore his old long sleeved dark blue sweatshirt and grey track pants, that was torn at the knees but really comfortable, showered hair that still was a bit wet at the roots and smelling of shampoo, and ventured down to the supermarket a street away to finish his weekly grocery shopping.

He had on his earphones blasting American Pop songs that Kagami had given him long time ago while browsing the aisles. He stopped from time to time to pick something off the shelf and hummed unconsciously to the tunes booming against his eardrums. 

He didn’t know when exactly he started singing along to the songs and  _that_  proved be a fatal mistake. 

 

In all fairness, if he had gotten caught singing ‘Firework’ or ‘Beat It’, which were the songs prior to  _this one,_ he wouldn’t have minded.  He would have even sung with the stranger standing beside him. 

 

But that was wishful thinking.

 

_He_ had to get caught only with this song.

 

Specifically at that line. 

 

Specifically by that stranger.

 

He found himself in an  _extremely_ awkward situation when the redheaded stranger came up to him and said , “yes.”   while he was crooning , “…don’t cha wish your girlfriend was hot like me….”

 

He had known the redheaded stranger for a while now. They almost had the same shopping schedules. But he had never spoken to him. For more than a year it had been just acknowledging with a nod when they saw the other. He had fantasized about asking for their name someday but was NOT prepared for their first ever actual conversation to be over him swaying his hips slightly, syncing with the beat of the  _damn_  song, softly singing the  _damn_  lyrics while selecting name brand yogurt.

 

If he could, he would have liked to erase his and the beautiful strangers’ memory of that incident forever. But now he knew that  _this_  had no chance of EVER being forgotten. 

What was mortifying was that the handsome stranger, after whispering an inviting “yes” to his ear, slipped something into his hand, gave an over-the-shoulder wink  _and a smirk_ before they left.

 

Left him standing near the damned yogurt rack stunned to the bone, jaw slack, eyes bugged, hair at his nape standing straight, still staring at the walkway through which the stranger had exited.

He looked at his hand to find a slip of paper with a few words that sent chills down his spine :-

 

_Akashi Seijuro._

_XXX-XXXX_

 

_I hope you won’t keep me waiting too long._

 

 

Of all the ways concocted by mankind to meet your potential boyfriend, he HAD to use _this_  approach.

Way to go, Kouki, he thought.

Now they know that you think Pussycat Dolls are the Jam.

This couldn’t get better.


	7. Akafuri

“You like doing that, don’t you?” 

“Mm…it is so soft. Like a kitten’s fur…”, Kouki murmured sleepily, carding his fingers through Seijuro’s hair. 

They were lying in Kouki’s bed, cramped in that small space, arms and legs tangled, basking in the afterglow.

“Hmmmm….”

Sei burrowed his nose in Kouki’s clavicle, lazily kissing the lovebites he had placed before. He could  _see,_  more than hear, Kouki’s breath hitch in his throat when he licked that tender neck. Kouki’s hand stilled in his hair before continuing to stroke in the same rhythm as before. 

“I have to leave soon…”, Sei sighed before tightening his hold around Kouki, not wanting to ever leave the warmth they shared.

“Stay the night? You can go back tomorrow morning.” Kouki said, gripping his hair a little firmer.

Sei pulled back reluctantly to look at Kouki in the eye, “That’s what we decided to do last time and we both ended up wearing each other’s clothing for class.”

“….which wouldn’t have been noticed by anyone, if not for Kuroko and Mibuchi senpai.”

“He is going to scold you for calling him that. But you are right. I suppose, since now everybody knows the obviously hideous shirt that I wore the other day was yours, I don’t think we need to be so secretive anymore.”Sei deadpanned.

Kouki playfully swatted him,“Its not hideous and I don’t think we have ever been secretive. Apparently someone had the craziest idea that coming out meant a full blown party and had to hold it at a five star hotel. You may be okay with what Reo nee had planned, but I am still reeling at being tied a ribbon around my neck and given to you as a freaking present!”

“You were the best present I have ever received in my whole life. And just to jog your memory a little, I had a ribbon around my neck too.”

“Oh I  _so_  remember. How can I forget that? We were supposed to untie them with just our teeth. Oh my god! I was so scared that I might accidentally strangle you! You have no idea how much I freaked out. And you did mine so easily too.”

“Hmmmm….nice memories. Now even if I want to scare you, all I get is - Sei take a bath, I will make soup. Like, where did I go wrong?”

“Ha ha. So…staying..?”

“…yeah…they can jeer and hoot all they want.”Sei yawned, giving Kouki an Eskimo kiss.

“You know…you don’t have to go….”

“I am staying, Kouki. I just said that.”

“No..not that. I meant…you don’t have to go at all.”

Sei pulled off of Kouki and braced himself on one elbow, palm resting against his head while looking at Kouki half-expectantly, half-quizzically.

Kouki broke their eye contact to look at fidgeting fingers, a cute blush spreading all over his face, "I meant…to say that….why don’t you move in with me? Ahh. I say that because, we are here most of the time and it is close to campus too. If we stay together we can reduce the rent too and you don’t have to worry about my shir-”

Sei kissed Kouki and silently prodded him to respond. Kouki got over his shock of getting interrupted in the midst of his embarrassed rambling and quickly started fighting for dominance. They broke apart a few minutes later with air being the victor.

“I..have..been waiting..for you to ask me..that.” Sei said breathlessly.

“Aah..ah..whaa..what..how long..?” Kouki panted.

“Since we started college.”

“That was three years ago! Why didn’t you ask?”

“…I thought I would be rushing things if I did.”

Kouki placed a hand against his cheek and Sei leaned into it, lightly kissing the wrist. He looked at him expectantly, a tentative smile playing on his lips, “So…yes?”

Sei gave his traditional smirk but his eyes held a special glow, as if seeing something precious,“I will move in tomorrow.”


	8. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight nsfw. Just hinted sexual content.

Uuuggh.

He hadn’t felt this bad ever in his life. His head felt like there was a football match going on, with his head as the ball. His throat felt like a long lost cousin to the Sahara desert. His body, as he tried to lift himself off the bed, proved that he had been royally screwed. His back and thighs were so sore that even the thought of moving to get a direly needed glass of water for his parched throat, felt like an impossible task. He opened his eyes and immediately shut them tight when the sunlight from the windows threatened to incinerate them. He groaned and tried opening them again. This time he shuffled to the end of the bed, taking care not to jostle too much, and peeked at the clock on the bedside table. 

9.00 AM

He shot up, which proved to be a really wrong move as his hips screamed in pain, but ignored it to bolt out of the bed and put on his clothes as fast as he could. He would be late to his class if he didn’t start now. He noticed a glass of water kept near the clock along with some bills. As soon as he finished dressing, combed his untamed, chestnut hair in the bathroom mirror (cringing at the amount of hickeys on his skin, visible as his collar couldn’t hide some of them), freshened his face a bit to not resemble the completely wasted guy that he actually was, he gulped the water down in one swoop, picked up his keys, wallet, phone and the money his one night stand had left so graciously, and made his way out of the hotel room. He hailed a cab and chose to ignore the looks and wolf whistles the people around him were giving and made his way to his place.

 

While on his drive of shame, he thought about last night’s events. It had just been a regular hang out with his friends on a friday night over drinks but as the night progressed, they were all getting really smashed and somehow they ended up dancing with the crowd on the club; he remembered dancing very close to another stranger, practically grinding against them to the beat of the music. He remembered murmuring approvals and sweet nothings while palming them and kissing them. The hands that no longer were just resting against his waist started kneading his cheeks in a desperate way as his mouth was involved in a tongue fight with theirs. He vaguely recalled pulling away from them, saliva connecting their lips. his hands clutching their shirt craving to rip it apart, to continue at a less public place. Which would explain how they ended up at the nearest love hotel and “continued” until the wee hours of dawn. 

He remembered they were really attractive, had red hair that kinda glowed like fire when the disco lights hit them and were very  _very_  skillful. He knew for sure that he had enjoyed last night more than anything he had ever experienced and that he was not alone in this conclusion. If the number of tied up condoms at various places of the room were any indication, he had had a share in the roughhousing part as well. He wondered when they had woken up and left and was thankful that they had paid their share in the bill. But he felt a little disappointed that he wont see them again or even if he did, he wondered whether he will remember them since their face was so unclear in his inebriated mind.

 

He finally reached home, showered quickly and dressed in a dark blue turtleneck and jeans, partly because it was a little nippy outside, partly to conceal the marks. He had his art class scheduled at 10 and made his way to the university after making sure that his backpack had all the necessary materials. They were only six of them in class when he reached and went about setting things up at his usual place near the classroom window. The sun was still hurting his eyes but the coffee that he had while on his way over helped in easing the pain in his head. His back of course, was another story; usually he would have a hot bath after a rough night but he was running out of time today and had only a rushed, cold shower which didn’t do much to his strained muscles. He sat in an angle which didn’t put much pressure on his ass but that didn’t stop him from wincing a little. He placed his canvas on the easel, made sure all the accessories were at the ready and waited for the class to start.

 

In the past they had only immovable objects as models and focused on the lighting and shading effects on them.  But for the last few months they focused on the postures and expressions of humans thus having to enlist actual people for the job. But today they were having a new type of model for drawing. A nude model. He was pretty sure that was one of the reasons the class was full this time as almost all the 18 members were present and raring to go.

When the teacher came in and announced that the model had arrived, all of them turned to see the one who would be subject to their intense scrutiny for the next hour, expecting a long haired beauty in all her glory. But what they saw had them gaping. 

 

They were a beauty alright.

 

They were just of the masculine gender of their species.

 

Flaming red hair that looked so so soft to touch, deep huge crimson eyes that made them look like the Devil, long sharp nose that cut that beautiful face in perfect symmetry, full plump lips that seemed to have just been kissed thoroughly, high cheekbones that set off those deep seated eyes, pointed chin that complimented their heart-shaped face structure, strong iron-like jaw line that was drool worthy, slender neck that linked to amazing collarbones, broad shoulders that looked as if they are used to carrying all the weight that were imposed on them, perfectly built arm muscles, each tendon in the biceps and triceps standing out gorgeously, hands that were big and soft to look at and palms with calluses visible in the harsh spotlight they were standing in, skin stretching over that expanse of chest and eight pack abs so snugly that were sure to make anyone question their orientation, no hint of a belly anywhere in vicinity, narrow hips that held their pride, hanging out in all their glory, firm ass cheeks that clenched with every movement, toned taut thighs, solid leg muscles and feet with clear cut toenails.

 

What he felt the moment when they took off their robe and presented themselves was not just his appreciative and acute examination of their stunning body that was gifted by the gods but also a strange feeling of familiarity. Like as if he had been privy to this sight before, in a more intimate situation. 

 

Looking at the model closely as they made their way slowly, as if measuring each step, to the podium, he could see red marks littered all over their body, especially on their chin, jawline, neck, collarbones, abs  and thighs. He could also see the scratches on their back near the shoulders and the hips even though they had clearly applied an excellent concealer. He surmised that they had been busy as well last night and was feeling a bit sympathetic towards them when he caught sight of those soulful eyes staring at him unblinkingly.

 

Why?

 

 _Why_  did they look at him that way?

 

 _Why_  did that feel so familiar?

 

 _Why_  did that make him feel so warm?

 

So hot?

 

So  _aroused_?

 

His heart thumped unevenly when he raked his mind as to remember where he had seen them before. He was sure this was the first time he is seeing them but the way they were fixating only on him during the introduction, he knew, he just  _knew_  that he had seen them before. 

 

Had them looking at him for hours. 

 

Only him. 

 

And nothing else. 

 

But  _when_?

 

 _When_  had he ever been with this alluring person before?

 

He knew that even if he had chanced them on the street, that face and hair were something that would get etched onto his memory, never to leave forever. 

Then how come he remembered those eyes darkening and dilating, those hands roaming and groping, those legs holding him up-

 

 

OH. MY GOD. 

 

 

Sweet mother of seven heavens.

 

 

He flushed like a beetroot as he remembered last night with vivid clarity. Still fuzzy around the edges but most felt like a veil was lifted and everything,  _absolutely_  everything with vibrant coherence, was up for the taking. 

 

He ducked his head behind his canvas as he cringed at the memory knowing that he was the cause of all those marks and feeling a little empathy for them having to stand for the next hour (knowing full well why they had to walk slowly and avoid limping).

He peeked a bit to see whether they were alright in the position they had adopted and saw them still looking at him with those piercing eyes. They even had a smirk on their face indicating that they knew that he knew. 

The smirk did wonderful things to his heartbeat, skipping a little before doing multiple somersaults. 

 

His staring contest was interrupted when their professor announced them to begin and he shook himself out of his thoughts and started focusing on the task at hand.

 

For the next 60 minutes as he put charcoal on canvas to bring justice to the Adonisque beauty posing in front of him, he decided three things.

 

1\. Furihata Kouki’s new crush was a freaking God. Though he himself was not lacking in the looks department with his lanky frame, chestnut hair, hazel eyes, friendly disposition and generally eye candy features, he had to admit they were on a whole level above him.

 

2\. He had to figure out why they hadn’t left their number last night and get their number today at least.

 

3\. And lastly, whether they were available tonight.

 

He was half convinced that there will be a positive answer, if that half smile and those eyes, filled with a certain longing, were any indication.

 

He couldn’t help the smile, filled with anticipation, that threatened to split his face in half.


	9. Nijimibu

 

Ah. Fresh morning air.

He loved the feel of the cold air when the wind hit his face as he cycled every morning.

After entering university, he had discontinued basketball to focus fully on becoming a professional stylist. He still played from time to time to not become rusty in the sport he loved but the regular practice that kept his body fit and fine was understandably not there. The work and assignments from college kept him busy all the time, leaving little room to eat or sleep. After tiring and training his body for so long, sudden lack of exercise just wont do. And so he had decided. even though he was known to be not a morning person, to take up cycling a good distance everyday. 

Who knew the decision he made, would benefit him exponentially?

 

Not only was the ride very comfortable and kept his beautiful body in check, with no hint of a muffin top anywhere, he was rewarded with the sight of a  _very_  handsome jogger when he passed a specific lane at a specific time. He would see them only for a few minutes as they passed each other, but for those few minutes, the entire ride was worth it. They were shorter than him by about two inches maybe, but exuded a certain type of strength and power like no other. He was used to witnessing people who had a powerful aura around them like his beautiful, too-good-for-the-world Sei-chan or his cute, cinnamon-roll-of-a-boyfriend whom people found hard to not obey Kou-chan, but this was totally different from them. He could sense it. This was pure strength. Power of body, of mind, very  _male_ , very  _pure_ , very  _primal_. He didn’t know when his turquoise eyes started trailing them but he was sure he didn’t want to stop. 

 

It was only for five minutes, but everyday when he saw them, he would see notice something different, like how their piercing gray eyes would glint when the sun hit them almost morphing it to a leaf green color, how their hair looked soft, so short and cut neatly to avoid any hassle, how a frown was forever etched on their face making them look a bit older than they really were (as a master at manipulating the age, he knew what age a person was approximately, at first glance, and found them to be almost his age, give or take a year), how their fit form moved in perfect synchronization like a well oiled machine, how their t-shirt would stick to their body as they ran and accentuate those muscles and abs underneath (making him gulp a little). 

 

He wished he could talk to them, he was known to be a social butterfly after all. But for some reason, he felt nervous around them. Even when he passed them and made sure to avoid eye contact when he eyed them, he would feel his heart thump unevenly, his breath quicken and his frame warming up a bit. He was no stranger to these emotions and knew that this was just a massive crush on a physically fetching jogger (who were beyond attractive even with that scowl and that upper lip jutting out- brain, stop!!).

He tried, of course, to slow down a little when he spotted them, eventually stopping to talk to them; keyword being - tried. He slowed down but as soon as felt those sharp gray eyes on him, all his bolstered up courage evaporated and he sped up immediately to avoid letting them see his face burning up. This happened so many times that he had lost count. He, the number one guy anybody would approach for any sort of dating advice, was left a blushing mess at the sight of an arresting stranger.

He hoped for a miracle to occur that would make the beguiling jogger speak to him and maybe, maybe, be at least a little interested in him.

 

However, he never hoped his miracle would come true this way.

 

Just another November morning, as usual, he went cycling and automatically decelerated a little to ogle at the view that made his insides churn with both pleasant warmth and a sort of longing. When he passed by them, he sighed as usual, thinking about another morning, another opportunity wasted-

 

“GOD FUCKING DAMMIT!! Curse you, you ASSHOLE!!”

 

A guttural voice bellowed, interrupting his musings abruptly. He stopped and turned around to see what was the commotion when, what he saw made his eyes pop open like saucers. A car that had passed by them a few seconds after him had apparently driven too close to the sidewalk and had splashed them fully with muddy water. 

 

There they were, red in the face, veins popping, gritted teeth doling out curses in a very colorful language, hands balled into fists, their outfit splattered and dripping murky gutter water, dark dangerous aura surrounding them as if they had already decided to wreak havoc on the culprit.

He noticed the slight shiver that run down their frame as a particularly chilly breeze chose that moment to grace them with its presence. Instantly his natural ‘mother’ instincts went off and literally ran to them and held out his jacket.

 

“Hello. Its a little nippy today, would you mind using my jacket?” he offered with a smile. Up close, he was at least three inches taller than them but he couldn’t match their presence. It had something to do with trust, he supposed. Some people made you feel stronger just by standing next to you. And they were oozing with it.  He could sense it. He was always able to sense and feel things more than anyone. More often than not, his intuitions proved accurate. He got along with Satsu-chan very well because of that. But now, he was uncertain. Whether they will accept a mere garment, offered by a stranger, just like that?

 

They looked at him with those discerning eyes as if to decipher his true intentions and after a considerable moment, accepted it.

 

“Thanks. It IS my fault to forget a jacket for a morning like this, but ah, well, it happened.” they zipped up and looked at him. The jacket looked better on them, he thought as he fought the blush that threatened to creep up on his face. 

They held out their hand, “Nijimura Shuzou. Thanks for the jacket. You are?”

 

Nijimura Shuzou.

 

Shuzou.

 

He seared that name into his memory before clasping onto their hand and mentally scolding himself to get his shit together and act the way he was with everybody else, flirty and suave, “Mibuchi Reo. Its nice to meet you, Shuzou-chan.”

 

“Oi! First name basis already??!! Just who do you think you are, you cocky brat??!! How old are you?”

 

“Ara. Shuzou-chan, you are so cute when you are angry.” He couldn’t help but tease them a bit, their reactions were too funny not to make fun of. 

 

“Oi! Imma beat you up if you call me that again, I swear. Here, just take your fucking jacket and get the hell outta my face- wait, you don’t have a jacket. You are gonna get a shitty cold, brat! Where the fuck do you live?”

 

They went from scheming plans about his death to thinking about his well-being in a matter of seconds. Scary….but…amazing. They were…amazing. Ah, he really was smitten. He wasn’t really worried about his body right now because he was feeling extremely toasty inside, but he wouldn’t say that to them. Happiness glowed on his face as he gave them an enigmatic smile, “Arara, Shuzou-chan. I am flattered. Do you, perhaps, like me?”

 

“I will tie you to the pole there and watch you die, gladly. But, come on! Move it. Before you die out here. My shop is nearby. I will give your jacket back.”

 

Shop.

 

Their shop.

 

He was going to visit their place. 

 

During their first conversation itself. 

 

Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god.

 

“Aww you do care about me, Shuzou-chan! It warms my heart.”

 

“One more word and I will pummel you into the ground. Do you want your jacket back or not?? Then shut the fuck up and get your ass moving. This way.”

 

He couldn’t be faster in his life as he went back to his bike and trailed after them before walking side by side, beaming the entire time. So many missed opportunities, so many what-if mornings, so many hours spent pining, worrying, doubting….all to lead to this. He wouldn’t wish to change anything at all. He will personally make good all the lost time. Little by little, he will make them fall for him as he fell for them. Irrevocably. Looking at them as they steered him to the barber shop two streets away, tucked in between a florist’s and a baker’s, while peeking glances at him every five seconds, something told him that it wouldn’t be too hard a task. 

 

“I live upstairs. You wait here while i go up and change. Help yourself to the tea kept in the flask near the stations.” They gave him a smile before they climbed the stairs.

 

He stood there at the entrance, frozen. 

 

One smile. 

 

One fricking, small smile.

 

Oh, be still, my heart.

 

Grabbing the flask, he drained every last drop of the ginger and honey tea to calm down his pulse a bit. 

Intuition or not, he was determined to make them feel as they made him.

 

Little did he know, they already felt the same way.


	10. Akafuri

 

Whiff. 

 

Whiff.

 

Hmmmm.

 

Something new had entered his domain.

 

Whiff.

 

He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

 

Aaaaaaahh.

 

He cracked open his gleaming heterochromatic eyes and smiled broadly, baring his fangs, when he became aware of  _what_  had entered his territory.

 

A new human.

 

Male.

 

Young. Maybe about 20-22 years old.

 

Hmm.

 

He had a peculiarly scintillating, musky scent about him.

 

The aura enveloping the male smelled of nervousness and strangely, anticipation.

 

The cologne that wafted to his nostrils was pleasant too.

 

Mmm. 

 

The aroma of the human was  _delectable._

 

Perhaps he shall personally pay a visit to this one.

 

He stood up from the royal throne he was previously perched on and once again took a deep breath to ascertain the exact location of the human. Smiling to himself, he checked his appearance in the mirror he conjured up in front of him. 

 

Crown. Check.

 

Horns. Check.

 

Folded wings. Check.

 

Perfectly styled red flaming hair. Check.

 

Poker face. Check.

 

Robes without a speck of dust. Check.

 

Magnetic appearance. Check.

 

Satisfied, he stalked towards where his new specimen was situated. The naive human was wandering aimlessly near the River of Despair as if he was looking for something. Creeping up behind the oblivious brunet, he spoke huskily, “My, my. What have we here?”

 

Just as he expected, the unsuspecting human jumped nearly 5 feet in the air at the sound, before turning around to face him. He inwardly chuckled at the mortal’s reaction, it had been a while since he was this amused. With humor in his eyes, he surveyed the obviously scared brunet: the mortal was shorter than him by an inch or so which made him feel oddly joyful, had coffee colored hair that was really messy and fell like a curtain over his eyes (he presumed he had tried to tame it but to no avail), eyes which were undeniably too big for his face held hazel irises that were indubitably too small, his skin was a bit darker than his own pale complexion, he was also a bit too lean and right now, shaking like a leaf in front of him.

 

He tried to placate the poor soul, smirking while doing so (the man’s reactions were just too appealing that even if he wanted to, he couldn’t help but tease a little), “So, what brings you to my realm?”

 

“Uhh….”

 

“Murder?”

 

“What?! N-No, Sir!!”

 

“Rape?”

 

“Whaaaat!! God NO!!”

 

“Adultery?”

 

“N-No, I don’t cheat.”

 

“Shoplifting?”

 

“No..I don’t steal either.”

 

He listed out the various crimes for which the brunet may have been exiled to hell but every question was met with a denial. He was getting slightly irked, what was this mortal’s crime anyway?? The guy looked like he wouldn’t harm a fly; would most probably apologize for stepping on a trail of ants! Then why was he banished to hell?! Was Tetsuya slipping?? The earthling surely seemed destined for the high heavens yet why did Tetsuya send him her-

 

Oh.

 

_Oh._

 

Wait a damn minute,

 

“You…You are gay, aren’t you?”

 

The mortal was a bit startled at the inquiry. He blushed a little when he comprehended the question and hesitantly murmured, “uummm….yes.”

 

He inwardly facepalmed.

 

GODDAMMIT TETSUYA!!!!

 

He sighed resignedly and noticed that the brunet was still staring at him. The moment they made eye contact, the human looked away, red tinge dusting his cheeks and even the tips of his ears.

 

Well, of all the dates that Tetsuya had set him up with (because he was convinced that he, Seijuro, the Emperor of the Underworld,  _needed_  someone) this one heralded to be refreshingly different.

 

“Well then, I suppose introductions are in order. Akashi Seijuro, Ruler of the Underworld.” He held out his hand.

 

“F-Furihata Kouki. I am, uh, was a florist..?” He took the hand in his cold, marginally smaller ones and shook it once, giving him a timid smile that made Seijuro grip onto his hand tighter as it sent sparks shooting down his body and mind. For a full minute he was completely enraptured by the beauty in front of him. 

 

One smile. 

 

All it took was one winsome smile on that bewitching face and Seijuro knew,  _felt_ it in the depths of his black heart, that this mortal flower would be the death of him. 

 

He blinked once and then smiled warmly at the brunet he knew he would eventually fall for.

 

“Nice to meet you Furihata-kun. Then I will be in your care from now on.”

 

Begrudgingly he thought, as he led his flustered future lover down to explore his (their) realm, that he had to thank Tetsuya for this.

 

Maybe a wedding invitation would do.

 

***

 

OMAKE:-

 

“Will you stop setting me up with people??”

 

“I thought Furihata-kun would be good for you.”

 

“I swear to God, Tetsuya-”

 

“Akashi-kun, you can’t swear to me about me.”

 

“…”

 

“…where is Furihata-kun now?”

 

“Playing with Reo. They are lounging near the Bloody Waterfall of Agony drinking apple juice out of the enemies’ skulls.”

 

 “Just another Wednesday afternoon.”

 

“…”

 

“I will await the wedding invitation, Akashi-kun.”


	11. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3 sentence challenge - cuddling on the couch on a rainy day.

Thank god for the inaccuracy of weather forecasts, thought Kouki as he shifted his position a little to get more comfortable on the couch, the mugs of steaming hot chocolate lying empty on the coffee table.

 

Seijuro placed a kiss on top of his head, tightened his grip around Kouki’s waist and pulled up the blanket a bit more so that none of their shared warmth escaped.

 

He thought about their day off, planned meticulously for three weeks only to be cancelled due to the rain, not that he was complaining - sighing dreamily he let his eyes droop - being with Seijuro was all that mattered anyway.

 


	12. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3 sentence challenge - “I’ve never talked to you before but the teacher just used us as an example for a scenario where we are married.” AU

Come to think of it, this might turn out well for both of them, mused Seijuro, as he knelt on one knee in front of the cute blushing brunet who supposedly was his fiance for the impromptu skit being held in their English lit class.

“You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”

When the blush darkened and the brunet, Furihata Kouki, tried to hide his face with his hands, stammering the next few lines, his mind focused only on how to eek out more reactions from him while spouting purple prose, a sly smirk making its way on his face. 


	13. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3 sentence challenge - first time parents au

“SEIJURO DROP EVERYTHING AND GET OVER HERE RIGHT NOW: SHE IS STANDING AND LOOKS LIKE SHE IS GONNA WALK, COME OVER NOW, on second thoughts bring your phone with you” Kouki yelled from the kitchen downstairs, flaying his arms about to try and distract their precious daughter from not taking that momentous step without her other father present to witness it.

“WHAT NO, SHE CANT DO THAT WITHOUT HER DADDY; KOUKI STOP HER AT ALL COSTS!!” screeched Seijuro as he came barraging down the stairs, phone at the ready and praying to all the gods that he hadn’t missed one of the most important junctures of their darling sunshine’s life.

He smiled affectionately as he saw her waddle a little and then full-on run across the hallway with Kouki following her to make sure she didn’t fall down or hurt herself by bumping into the furniture and him recording everything in perfect clarity; he ruminated that he really wouldn’t trade this life for anything else in the world.


	14. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3 sentence challenge - waiting in a holding cell together for our friends to bail us out and you’re unexpectedly cute au

“So, what are you here for?” questioned Seijuro as he waited in the cell after calling Momoi - the only sensible person among his so-called friends, may the gods bless her - to bail him out for getting caught causing a scene at a bar.

“…….I was caught TPing the dean’s apartment.” mumbled the brunet, failing to hide the blush that marred his pretty face with his hands whilst peeking through the gaps between his fingers to look at him.

He couldn’t help the chuckle that spilled out and gained a not-so-convincing glare from the flushing brunet in return and devised plans to meet in much more favorable circumstances. 


	15. Akafuri and Kikasa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3 sentence challenge - Karaoke AU

This….might have been a  _bad_  idea, contemplated Kasamatsu, as he watched Furihata and Akashi sing in perfect synchronization to the anime opening blaring through the speakers with Kise squirming in his seat beside him, waiting to grab the microphone from Akashi’s hands.

When the damnable song ended and the lovey-dovey couple kissed, he knew they were definitely showing off, he interlaced his fingers through Kise’s, surprising him for a second, and pulled him to the podium, a scowl etched on his face.

Well, he reasoned, whilst letting Kise select a song of his choice, if they were gonna strut their stuff in front of his face, he would make them wish they never did it.


	16. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3 sentence challenge - charity kissing booth au

He wondered as he trudged along, why he absolutely  _had_  to come here all the way from Kyoto for a charity fair of all things, with Reo tugging him in his wake, while he could be doing a lot of other intellectually challenging exercises in his scarce free time. 

Resigning himself to his fate, he let his eyes roam, taking in all the surroundings, the excitement, the crowd, the articles on display and making note to try out the candy apple stall before zeroing in on the obscurely placed kissing booth between the sweets stall and the seafood stall: particularly at the person that occupied the stall, if his memory served him right- of which there was no mistake- it was the captain of the Seirin basketball team sitting there and doling out his kisses for a paltry sum.

Something irked in him, maybe it was because he had a slight  _slight_  crush on the affable brunet who inspired him to mend his ways a little and become more congenial with his own teammates or maybe it had something to do with being a  _little_  envious of the little girl who received his kiss on her cheek before he ever had the chance, he couldn’t figure out and hence he stopped pondering and strode to where Furihata-kun was, emptied his sizeable wallet on the counter and proclaimed to the shocked brunet, “I am buying all the kisses of all the shifts you have at this fair, and i wouldn’t mind you kissing me after the fair has ended as well.”


	17. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3 sentence challenge - I can’t tell whether this is a date because you asked to see a movie but I’m still not sure you’re queer, and I’m toeing the line because maybe you’re just trying to make friends AU

Its NOT a date, Kouki, its not a date, he chanted to calm himself down for what felt like the umpteenth time as he sat next to his friend, Akashi Seijuro, struggling to keep his hand away from the arm rest lest he end up holding his hand for the remainder of the movie. 

However, his mind betrayed him, conjuring up images of what-if-this-was-actually-a-date scenarios and making him  _feel_  his face heating up; he felt contrite that only he might be harboring these thoughts whereas the other party had invited him only with the purest of intentions. 

But when his hand was grasped in another warmer, slightly bigger hand, he turned in shock to look at him, almost twisting his neck in the process, only to find him staring at the screen keenly, a little tinge painting his cheeks - apparent even in the darkness of the room - he felt pretty much sure that his feelings were not unrequited.


	18. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3 sentence challenge - Seijuro's birthday (for madridstagoblue - Happy birthday Akashi-kun:):)

Birthdays were just any other day for him: holding no special memories, held no special memories ever since  _she_  passed away, but now as he pulled up the blanket to cover himself as he lay on the futon with a fond smile on his face, he mused, perhaps they have started to feel memorable again. 

He let his lids flutter shut as he reached out under the blanket for the warmth near him, winding one arm around Kouki’s waist and pulling him closer to feel the coziness that was the brunet and smiling to himself about the events of the day, pondering much more on the poignancy and the thought behind it : they, all his ex-teammates as well as his current teammates had boycotted his room to redecorate it as nothing short of a small mayhem while he was busy with his work at his father’s office and proceeded to kidnap him from there for the party in his own room; suffice it to say that he was flabbergasted at what they had achieved in such a short time, but as he thought of the cakes, the food, the confetti, the impromptu karaoke, the harmless, childish games, the thoughtful gifts, the hugs et all, rather than getting irritated at the juvenile conduct, he felt his chest clog a little as a new form of heat spread across it. 

As he cut his birthday cake to the chorus of tone-deaf voices of his friends -  _yes,_  they were his dearest, irreplaceable friends - singing cacophonously with no syncronisation whatsoever, all of them beaming at him, tacitly telling him that he was loved, that he was not alone, he was never alone, would never be alone, pure joy plastered on their faces, Kouki snaking an arm around his waist and planting a chaste kiss on his cheek, giving him a radiant smile, he felt tears stinging his eyes and a euphoric smile making its way to his lips at the love that overwhelmed him at that moment.


	19. Hayamiya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3 sentence challenge - playing video games au

“DONT DIE YOU FUCKING IDIOT DONT YOU DARE DIE I FUCKING NEED YOU!!” bellowed Kiyoshi as the enemy line open fired on them with increasing enthusiasm as the went up a level higher with him having only one more life to spare and diminishing artillery.

Hayama was sitting next to him - though the word  _sitting_  would never be attributed to that blonde atom bomb - jamming the keys on his controller with enough force to shatter it as he flanked him to ward off the encroaching battalion, shooting lasers and pulling off whatever moves allowed and desperately trying to hold onto the last life left with him.

“I AM TRYING MIYAJI-SAN I AM TRYING BUT THOSE BADASS BASTARDS ARE NOT FUCKING STOPPING!!” he gritted his teeth in frustration and shared a look with his lover before situating himself in a back-to-back formation in an effort to not let the enemy get the upper hand, resolving himself to fighting with everything they got to finish this once and for all.


	20. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3 sentence challenge - meet the parents (+ brother) au

“Seijuro, this is my mom, dad and Aniki,” and turning towards them, Kouki spoke with a level of confidence he didn’t know he possessed until that moment - now that it has come to it, he cant back off - “this is Akashi Seijuro, my lover.” 

Seijuro froze, hand stilling in the air, outstretched towards Kouki’s father, eyes widening at the bold declaration by his beloved, mouth slightly hanging open, the cordial smile that he had planned to present, never getting the chance to show up, mind racing, surpassing the speed of light, with thoughts tainted with doubt, incredulity, possible reactions, consequences and crisis recovery strategies.

He quickly composed himself from his momentary lapse to display a perfectly impenetrable poker face with the soft impersonal smile intact and shook hands with Kouki’s father, wheels already turning in his head - calculating the amount of savings they both had, how to acquire the property they had been eyeing, the ideal time to elope with Kouki and live there together with their pets regardless of his parents’ approval; he was so far gone in the melancholy of his thoughts, contemplating only a possible reunion in the distant future and devising ways to cheer up Kouki - that when his hand was sandwiched between two worn, callused, warmer hands, he jolted out of his stupor and looked up to find the entire Furihata family bestowing him with their sunny smiles, “Welcome home Seijuro, we have been waiting ages to meet the person who made our Kouki a gooey mess.”

[If I was allowed a fourth sentence - 

Akashi let his mask slip to reveal a genuinely jubilant expression, eyes conveying all the relief, the gratitude, the compassion he felt at those simple but profound words and pronounced with conviction, “Its good to be home.” ]

 


	21. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3 sentence challenge - accidentally read their diary AU

“ _He makes me smile, he make me laugh, he makes me think, he makes me empathize, he makes me see the beauty in things I had never even spared a glance for, he makes me reevaluate my whole life, he_ ** _frees_** _me, reminding me time and again that I am human and to live life and love every moment of it; every microsecond that I spend with him is what I treasure the most, every breath I take when I am with him, I feel **alive** , exposed, slashed open for all the world to see and all the weight I had been carrying around suddenly evaporated leaving me slightly lightheaded, making me stronger to face all my struggles knowing that he supports me; I should feel scared at the power he holds over me yet all I feel is an extreme sense of warmth and security, and though I wish, wearing my heart on my sleeve like a hopeful suitor, that I get to spend the rest of my life with him, I am aware even that will not be enough to shower Kouki with all the love that I feel for him._”

Kouki blushed beet red from his hair tips to toe nails as he read the entries in Seijuro’s diary, each surpassing the previous one in being extravagantly poetic, there being  _absolutely_  no doubt as to whom they were written about in the purplest of prose; he had been loitering in the other’s room looking for some DVDs when he chanced upon this, though he wholeheartedly cursed his inquisitive mind, he was torn between continuing and shutting the book and pretending the whole thing never happened.

But when Seijuro made an indigent squawk, dropped the phone he held and proceeded to snatch the offending journal from his prying hands, all the while blushing the color of his hair, he was more inclined to say that he felt the same way.

 


	22. Nebumibu

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3 sentence challenge - carnival au

Eikichi knew it was a great idea to drag Reo to the carnival, maybe the best he ever had; though he had initially planned to score out on all the food stalls that inhabited the place, none of them - literally NONE - would ever come close to seeing Reo’s face whilst watching the fireworks.

Dressed in the beautiful blue, flower patterned yukata that set off his turquoise eyes to perfection, clapping his hands in joy, ornaments on his wrists jingling with every movement, the side clips on his hair not hiding any of the pure, innocent, wide eyed wonder etched on his face as the crash, boom and razzle dazzle played an uneven magical tune in the sky, Eikichi came to the foregone conclusion that the actual miracle was standing right next to him. 

When Reo pulled him by his sleeve to drag him to a less crowded place to ogle the sparkly wonder in peace, Eikichi couldn’t help but lower his head a little to capture those luscious pink lips in a kiss whilst basking under the vibrant explosions that invaded the inky black night, to confirm, for what felt like the millionth time in their decade long relationship, that this - this gentle, delicate beauty - was real indeed.


	23. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3 sentence challenge - spin the bottle AU

He knew he had Kuroko to blame - for this, for everything; that devious, sly little teal haired demon with large innocent eyes had lured him into this with sweet, reassuring words - he knew, he just  _knew_  that Kuroko would do something like this, would use the fact that his fiery, intimidating ex-captain was a tinge smitten by the brunet on his team to embarrass him; in retrospect, he should have seen it coming, and people thought HE was scary - HA, wait until they ever got on  _Kuroko’s_  bad side.

As he sat in front of the blushing, blubbering mess of a brunet, cursing Kuroko with all his heart and his ex-teammates for siding with the little blue devil, anticipation painting all their faces as they blatantly stared at their ex-captain becoming increasingly nervous, a light blush tinting the tips of his ears at the prospect of what was to come, he knew he should have never agreed to playing spin the bottle - the damnable game - which was the sole cause of his nervous disposition.

Furihata Kouki, the poor poor soul caught in the web of Kuroko’s mind games (or should he say,  _heart_  games?), his newest and possibly the most normal friend he had ever had, whom he had the inklings of feelings for - feelings that clearly were NOT friendly in the least - did something he  _never_  expected him to do, i.e. follow through with the juvenile dare: gave him the slightest peck on his lips; an action which was so brief that it felt like if you blinked you would have missed it but what it did was turn Akashi to stone.


	24. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3 sentence challenge - accidentally fell in your lap while standing on this crowded bus au

“I am truly sorry for the inconvenience, as you can see it is awfully crowded and the  _imbecile_  of a bus driver” - he narrowed his eyes dangerously - “does not know the concept of driving cautiously as evidenced from his fondness for application of sudden brakes causing all the passengers to hurl onto the other and myself, in turn, to fall onto your unfortunate lap, and since we are here right now and I can see you quietly reading the latest volume of Fujimaki Sensei’s manga, may I read it with you?”

Kouki gaped at the attractive redhead, who was busy offering his mile-long speech, perched atop his lap and realised two things:-

1\. his thighs were gonna be sore by the end of the journey if the beautiful stranger didn’t move, and

2\. the beautiful stranger, who apparently had no intention of moving, had asked him a question while he was busy gawking at him.

Clearing his throat, he shifted a little to place the gorgeous-but-slightly-heavier-redhead in a much more comfortable position, mainly for the relief of his poor thighs - to his surprise the redhead showed no signs of hesitation at being moved by his hips, which in retrospect should have tipped him off - forced himself to respond and not revert to the blubbering mess he was known for in high school, and said, “Yeah sure, will you hold it for me?”


	25. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3 sentence challenge - kisses them/a stranger as a distraction (for their friend(s) to escape) but it gets out of hand AU

It was their usual procedure - to casually stroll into the most crowded areas of a shop, finish the job without getting caught on camera and not a pin out of place - this was their way, and if they were ever in the danger of being caught (which almost never happened but Seijuro was one for many contingency plans), one of them would create a distraction, let the others slip through with the loot, cause a scene and then leave, never to step foot in there again.

However, this time, being in the center of a scene that he had caused so that Kuroko and the others can escape the mall with whatever they could get their hands on, Seijuro found himself in the arms of a brunet who was kissing him just as passionately as he was and showing no signs of letting go …..or the inclination to breathe.

Cracking one eye open to survey the ogling crowd and check whether his friends have made good of his ‘distraction’, he pried himself off of the enticingly soft and squishy brunet with whom he had just engaged in an extremely competitive bout of tongue hockey - quite unwilling to let the warmth vanish if he said so himself - to look at him properly, from head to toe, scrutinising, before smirking mischievously and dropping his tone to a seductive whisper, “I wouldn’t mind continuing somewhere…less conspicuous.”


	26. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3 sentence challenge - grew up as best friends but you got hot over the summer can i touch ur biceps AU

What sort of cruel joke was THIS, Kouki pondered ruefully, tearing his eyes from the view in front of him to look down at his own lanky, lean, slightly tanned figure with judging eyes; though there was no sign of a muffin top anywhere, there clearly wasn’t any distinguishable hint of a well developed muscle either.

He wasn’t especially weak; he had trained the same number of torturous days, months and years as Seijuro, the innumerable hours they spent playing basketball to their heart’s content since they discovered the sport when they were five - shouldn’t that count for something??, he wondered skeptically as he plonked himself on the shore, pulled his knees upto his chest, arms twining around his legs and glared at the person who was the cause for his envious grumbling as water droplets shined on his skin and the sun beat down harshly on his back.

He watched as Seijuro clambered up the shore from his swim, hair dripping wet with the salty sea water, cascading down his godly form, lazily kissing each curve and dip before disappearing behind low hung shorts - the only garment they both bothered to adorn, in retrospect, he thanked the gods for not taking up on Sei’s offer to go skinny dipping - NOT FAIR, fumed Kouki, his fingers itching to trace every inch of the well defined skin of his childhood friend before he snapped out of his questionable daydreams involving that delectable torso in close proximity only to get caught by an extremely aware pair of rubies - his favourite color, they always looked at him with warmth that he could never decipher - staring straight at him, brimming with amusement, challenging him the silent question that he somehow just  _knew_ , “Like what you see??”


	27. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3 sentence challenge - both live in the same apartment complex (neighbors) and whenever Furi gets angry at work he storms into Akashi’s place, raids his fridge and cupboards, and stress cooks with whatever he can find. And everything Furi makes is always delicious, high class quality, and one day Akashi will get Furi to work at his restrurant….after he finishes this amazing plate of pasta.

“Aaaargh, I HATE my fucking life!!!” growled Kouki in frustration before reducing to muttering curses of a very colorful kind under his breath whilst raiding Seijuro’s kitchen: banging pots and pans on the counter, bottles of personally assorted spices strewn haphazardly all over the place, cupboards thrown wide open as he ransacked them to start up a dish he never thought twice about and soon, stirring the simmering contents viciously, imagining it to be the offender’s face.

Seijuro observed him quietly from the kitchen doorway, he did not dare go anywhere near - Kouki’s domain whenever he stress cooks was something you needed to steer clear of unless you had a death wish, he had learnt that the hard way - he was used to Kouki barging into his house, completely ignoring his own better equipped kitchen (which, incidentally, was just next door), and creating edible magic while chattering endlessly about some sundry topic; but seeing the usually happy and cheerful brunet seething with anger and cooking the most delectable dishes he had ever had was truly, a sight to behold.  

As he shoveled spoonfuls of the so-drool-worthy-that-grown-men-would-weep-for-pasta into his mouth, hastily crafted by the gifted-but-angry brunet, he vowed to himself that one day - someday, surely someday - he would get Kouki to work for him in one of his family’s restaurants, preferably as the top chef, but surmised wisely that at the current moment - as he watched the fuming-but-oh-so-adorable mousy haired man completely ignore his impromptu masterpiece (that he would later dub as ‘food fit for the gods’ but he might be biased, if he said so himself, as he would end up naming all of Kouki’s dishes the same way) and chug a can of some cheap, disgusting carbonated drink still cursing the miscreant who had made him go into such a frenzy (the details of which still unknown to him but he shall soon dig it up when Kouki calms down and make sure that person doesn’t live to tell the tale) - he should keep his plans of devising ways to lure Kouki into cooking for him, preferably forever, to himself.


	28. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3 sentence challenge - I just tripped and fell face first into your crotch, god end my life now please AU

He  _really_  should get a grip on his clumsiness, Kouki grumbled to himself and then blushed fire-engine red when he belatedly realized on exactly  _what_  he had fallen.  
  


As he peeled his face off from the other’s shorts after headbutting with the unfortunate person’s crotch, he braced himself on his elbows and looked up to find the most dazzling pair of rubies he had ever seen, gazing at him part quizzically part brimming with barely hidden amusement, lips quirking up at the edges to form a smirk of the sly kind.

  
When he scrambled to steady himself, arms flaying, grip uncertain on the slippery beach sand, numerous apologies caught in his throat, making weird inhuman noises, he saw hands gripping him by his shoulders and straightening them to sit him in front of the one person whom he never wanted to offend,  _ever_  - Akashi Seijuro - who spoke to him in that seductively low voice that sent shivers up his spine, tingling some nerves in a completely different way, “Hello there, Furihata-kun, if it weren’t for the fact that I know you have a certain reputation for tripping on thin air, I would think that you had ulterior motives, considering  _where_  you landed."


	29. Nijimayu

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3 sentence challenge - one of them refusing to wake up (”it’s my day off, go away”) only to be woken up by a slobbering wet kiss and chasing the person who did the deed.

Shuuzou found him like that - lying on his stomach, mouth open, a dry dribble staining the side of his face currently smashed by a pillow, one leg hanging off the bed, blanket coiling around him haphazardly - on a bright sunday morning (nearly noon) before shaking his head, cursing the one who invented otome games with all his heart for keeping his jerk of a boyfriend up until the wee hours of dawn, striding over to the bed and pulling off the blanket in one swoop,“Rise and shine, princess.”

All he got for his tremendous effort was Chihiro tightening his eyes, deepening his scowl, curling in around himself, wildly groping around for the lost blanket and grumbling, voice a bit muffled by the pillow,“Fuck off Shuzou; its a fucking sunday - lay the fuck off, would ya?”

  
Well that just wont do now would it, tsked Shuuzou, especially since this particular sunday marked their ninth anniversary which apparently his stellar boyfriend had dared to forget, before he smirked and placed a disgustingly wet, slobbering, loud, completely gross kiss on the older man’s nape; the resulting mad chase around the house that ended in a passionate make-out session leading to something more against the kitchen counter proved to be many times worth the sickeningly sweet effort.


	30. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3 sentence challenge - an alien AU where Akashi is an alien on a mission to gather plant samples from the plant Earth but ends up mistakening Furihata’s hair a plant. And Akashi knows he shoukd wipe out Furihata’s memories and place him back as is the protocol but this earthling is just so intreging that Akashi just wants to keep him, rules be damn.

Akashi was falling - he knew, felt it in his marrow, in every single cell, with every beat of the heart in his abdomen pumping thick white venom to the end of his tentacles - he  _knew_.

  
He also knew he wasn’t alone in this suffering - the human, Kouki ( _his_  Kouki), blushed and his heart beat faster whenever he came near, painting his cheeks a rosy red color (his own, an exquisite leaf green on his prussian blue body -though he would say Kouki looked more adorable of the two), their breaths quickened when one of his numerous limbs stroked Kouki’s face reverently while looking at him in pure, unabashed adoration - he knew he had fallen hard, so hard, so fast, that it was irrevocable now - the pull was too much, too strong between them equaling strands made of titanium that to pull away would be…… _unthinkable_.

  
He had been planning on erasing the human’s memory before it became too serious, they lived just under a century after all, as opposed to some _thing_  like him who was on his seventeenth millennium, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so, even thinking abut it now was pure torture and hence, resigning to his true self, for what his heart really wanted, which he hadn’t heard thud so fast  _ever_  before, he avowed that he shall change Kouki and bring him back to his planet, his home, opposing all known and laid down laws and regulations to place him in the one place he truly belonged - beside his throne.

 


	31. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3 sentence challenge - my parents like you more than me AU

Whenever he encountered situations just like the one that was being played out before his eyes currently, Seijuro wondered whether his whole life was just a huge, convoluted lie; he had envisioned scenarios where he and his beloved Kouki could be together for life regardless of their parents’ approval - he still hadn’t fully recovered from the shock of Kouki’s family accepting him so  _easily_  as if it was but a natural thing - but in  _all_  the scenarios that he had contemplated, he had NOT been prepared for  _this_.

Countless strategies, months spent worrying, plotting, brooding over back-up plans and their probabilities of success, bracing himself for the worst, a  _lot_  of disappointment, anger, doubt, threats such as being disowned and their variations to be thrown his way, a little bit of crying in front of  _her_  grave when it all became a tinge too much to handle (no other soul shall  _ever_  know of that) and the numerous times he woke up sweating, panting, thrashing, screaming and crying due to horrendous nightmares involving Kouki leaving because of some dubious, malicious actions of his father - all of it,  _every single one of them_ , blew up in his face as he saw his father - his impeccably dressed, uptight, aristocratic, arrogant, strict, immaculate father who, frankly speaking, had been more of a  _sire_  to him than a real father - sitting cross legged on the uneven ground, barefoot, mud staining his expensive, pristine pants, suit jacket thrown somewhere, shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, hands digging greedily and with precision into the soil, talking animatedly with Kouki as they bonded over best weeding techniques to be used, in  _her_  garden, a place he  _never_  visited ever since.

The rest of the evening passed by him in a blur; it was only after he had dropped Kouki off that he braved to ask the  _one_  question that had plagued him, sending every neuron in his body into an overdrive for the past few hours - of what had caused such a massive, drastic, _monumental_  change in him - and the answer he received stunned him to the very core as his father replied, looking directly into his eyes - something he hadn’t done in  _years_ , “He reminds me of your mother - the same fiery, passionate, humble, considerate and completely pure spirit - someone who will gladly give up their own lives for the ones they love, selflessly, blinding you with their love and making you feel blessed to have met them.”

[If I am allowed more (I know this is OOC but I personally love this part) :-

He bellied out a laugh which had Seijuro rooted to the spot, transfixed at the sound of full blown laughter spilling out of the man he had feared almost his  _entire_  life - he didn’t know his father was capable of laughing; even in the years before the illness ate away at her, cell by crucial cell, he hadn’t seen his father smile, let alone laugh, except perhaps in public, solely for show - and said sighing, reducing to awkward, reminiscent chuckles, wiping away a stray tear, “The apple sure doesn’t fall far from the tree eh, Seijuro?? You reeled in a good one boy! Make sure to treasure every moment with him, for no matter how many decades you live with him, it will not be enough.  _I_  would know.”]

 


	32. Aokise

When Aomine Daiki moved into the apartment all those years ago after he graduated from the police academy he never expected that he would make actual conversations with everyone who lived there. He was so sure that he would remain the same antisocial, intimidating loner that he was back at high school. But now he knew everyone from the weird lady on the ground floor who was obsessed with her garden to the guy who lived in the top most floor with the twelve crazy cats. Well almost everyone; the guy that had moved in next door to him more than four months ago was still a mystery.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t heard about the guy though. The neighborly gossip was enough to fill him in. He knew the guy was a pilot and apparently a total “loveboat”, that he was very helpful and had a smile that would make all the ladies swoon. That made him cringe a little bit; seeing women who were flirting with menopause fangirling over a guy who was old enough to be their son, seriously what kind of magic had the guy woven?

He, as usual, didn’t care much for the drama but made it a point to know about the mystery man. He was a cop after all, he cant have a serial killer or a dealer living in his own building. That was what led him to knowing who all lived there and what they did for a living. But his duty timings were so erratic that he never got a chance to even look at the “blond bombshell”. God. The guy was getting weirder nicknames than him. He came off as “grumpy grandpa” at the not-old-at-all age of 30 or “sexy cop” which was, he had to admit, he liked it a lot, but this was pure fangirling. And since he couldn’t seem to ever have the chance to come across that guy, he just made sure to keep his eyes and ears open for anything suspicious.

 

Sunday mornings were the best in Aomine’s opinion. His shifts would not be until late at night for most sundays so he usually had the entire morning and afternoon free. But today was an exception. He had been working his ass off for two weeks straight without a break and so he had the whole day off as compensation. Which he fully intended to enjoy by not moving an inch from the bed except for extreme emergencies.

Unfortunately the universe had other plans for the great Aomine Daiki.

A shrill shriek pierced through his dead mind waking up a part of his subconscious. He of course, thought it was the cursed alarm and promptly reached one long arm out of his cocoon, sleepily to knock it off of his bedside table. But that didn’t stop the wails. He willed his brain to fall back asleep and ignore the annoying yowling in the background because a) he was dead tired and sick of it all and b) he was gifted with the ability to fall asleep at the drop of a hat from childhood. And so he buried his face deep in the pillows and stretched out his limbs to relax more and forced himself to slip into the haven of dreamless slumber.

His genius brain, however, had decided it had better things to think of than lulling him back to sleep; whether he can get his best friend/rival Kagami to cook dinner for him today instead of killing him as he had threatened to do the last time he had dropped by unannounced and had accidentally walked in on his and Tetsu’s private time (to be fair he couldn’t look at both of them in the eye for days after that), whether Tetsu will ever give up his addiction to vanilla milkshakes and favor teriyaki burgers instead, whether Akashi’s chihuahua who was infamous for taming the deadly lion had finally been defeated at speed talking, whether Akashi will ever realize that he is so whipped and that his catchphrases were lamer than his own, whether the high-pitched unmanly wail he just heard was actually Satsuki who had found his gay porn stash-

Ah. There it was again. That annoying howl. It sounded like it was coming from next door and not from his house and he felt relief at that thought. At least Satsuki hadn’t found his stuff. He already had enough with what that pesky woman had to say about his regular porn magazines, he didn’t need to hear what she had to say about the gay-  
  


“……AAAAARGHHHH HEEEEEEEELLLLPPPPPP!!!!! SOOMEBODYYYYYY!!!!! ANYYYYBODYYYYY!!!….”

That jolted him entirely awake. Almost a decade of honing his senses to their maximum ability helped him to pinpoint the place from which the screams where coming - but it shocked him to know that they were from next door.

There wasn’t any girl living next door. Only a guy. 

Oh my god he-

“HEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLPPPPPPP!!!!!”

He bolted out of his house, taking only the baseball bat that Kagami had gifted him a long time ago because he badly wanted someone to play that sport with, and pushed through his neighbor’s door, kicking it down (thanking the gods that it wasn’t locked. it would have taken much longer), all ready to wreck havoc on the mystery guy who was making some poor girl scream like that.

“OI!! WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HE-……….eh??”

He came expecting his unknown neighbor to be some sort of a rapist manhandling some poor girl or situations even worse than that but what he didn’t expect - AT ALL - was to see the “blond bombshell” standing on top of the couch shivering and trembling, tears threatening to spill out, snot forming at his nose and screaming in an  _extremely_  girly fashion.

“Help!! Please!! Its an emergency!!”

Swinging the bat dangerously, Daiki looked around, trying to find the source of the problem…..but couldn’t find any.

“Where is the emergency?” he growled.

“Down there!! Its…its gross. Its huuuge!! Its an earthworm!! Please!!! Please , please take it away!! Its under the couch!” the blond screeched in that high pitched tone that made his ears go deaf.

“HUUUH??!! YOU….you…earthwo…aaargh!!! Forget it! Where the fuck is it??”

When the blond whimpered and pointed to the floor underneath couch with a trembling finger and pulling it back instantly as if the harmless earthworm would rear its ugly head, grow to about fifty times its size and bite the finger off of his hand, Daiki crouched and picked it up with his thumb and forefinger and looked for a place to put it. The blond then visibly trembled at the sight of the offender and hid his face with his hands and wildly gestured towards a place to the far left of the room, near the balcony. He looked that way to find a small bucket, opened, and full of…..worms. 

Ah. Bait bucket. Next to the bucket was, in his opinion, the finest set of fishing equipment he had ever seen. He put the little guy who was squirming in his hand with his friends and closed the bucket. Swiping his fingers on his jeans to get rid of the slimy feeling that lingered, making sure that no other worm had escaped the bucket and wandered off - he _really_  did not want a repeat, he liked his day off too much - he turned back to tell the blond that the coast was clear and the “danger” had been eliminated.

The blond was rubbed his eyes with his hands and took a cautious step down from the couch to the floor. He thought it was a pretty funny sight - now that he thought about it, the whole situation was a bit funny. He was about to tease him when the guy in question spoke up, “Stay. I will be with you in a minute.”  
The blond walked off to where the bathroom probably was - the house resembled the same layout as his - and he followed, noticing things along the way. The apartment looked like he had just moved in, when he knew for a fact that it had been almost five months since he came, boxes still there in a few places, hastily made couch that probably served the double purpose of being a bed when pulled out, a few beer bottles on the coffee table, no pictures on the wall, television in the corner (expensive kind though, he quirked a brow at that), a set of dvds strewn nearby, he leaned a little to the side to see an empty bedroom (no bed - which meant that his suspicion of the couch was true), little else in place which made him come to the conclusion that the guy hardly spent any time in his house, no time to arrange it, was not a smoker (no ashtray or that nauseating smell), probably worked and lived in his office or spent a lot of time overseas since he was a pilot (listening to idle chatter with half an ear while waiting impatiently for his laundry to finish helped sometimes).

The guy himself, was almost his height albeit a little shorter (even shorter than Kagami, he thought), fair skin, almost as lean as him, sun kissed golden hair and the way he walked was what had probably set off those ladies into a frenzy - I MEAN WHO WALKS WITH THAT SWAY? He leaned against the bathroom door as he watched the guy dunk his face under the tap as the water soaked his head fully. He hadn’t had a good look at the guy’s face since he had been preoccupied - the guy was crying the whole time and hiding his face with his hands and Daiki was busy trying to avert the “danger”. But was NOT prepared for the view that he was offered when the guy lifted his bangs off of his forehead and showed that excellent face in full, unblemished glory.

Dazzling.

That was the only word he could think of when he saw that face. He had been prepared to see a scrunched up, puffy eyed look after all that crying but what he saw knocked his knees under him. If he had thought the guy’s way of walking with that slight sway to his hips and showcasing his nice ass was enticing, he had to say that his butt was losing to his face, hands down. His face was a  _million_  times better to look at, and if anyone had known Aomine Daiki for even five minutes, they would know that  _that_  was a  _huge_  compliment. Perfectly arched eyebrows of light brown color, thick black eyelashes (were they winged??) that flitted perfectly when he blinked, high cheekbones on that heart-shaped face, full doe-shaped lips that looked plucked like fresh strawberries and would be  _extremely_  cute to look at if he pouted like those girls he had seen doing, pointed chin with a really cute cleft on it, perfect nose that cut that pretty face in perfect symmetry and - he saved the eyes for last, he knew those were the reason he was feeling funny, his belly churning a little - large, honey pools of molten gold that seemed to glitter under the mirror light were his undoing.

Those stupid nicknames never did him any justice after all.

The guy suddenly turned and spoke to him - in a voice that was not shrill AT ALL, it was really pleasant and chirpy, something he would never tire of hearing - “Can you wait, I will make some coffee.” He walked past him to the kitchen without waiting for a reply or to see whether Aomine followed.

“Yeah, that will be alright.” Daiki drawled, recovering from his shock and tailing him to the nearly empty kitchen, save for the island in the center, an oven and a refrigerator. There were only two mugs out and the guy busied himself by dumping instant coffee in both, adding water and shoving it into the oven and turning it on. He waited for the guy to start talking (and then start teasing, damn he had forgotten that) as he took a seat on one of the island’s high stools. A whole minute passed and the microwave went off with a ding. The blond took the mugs out and place one in front of him before taking a seat opposite him. He still hadn’t spoken and Daiki felt a little irritated.

“Soooo………..you are the new guy hehh?” He raised the cup to his lips and raised an eyebrow, prompting the guy to respond.

“Ha ha ha. Yeaaaahhhhh……Kise Ryouta. Nice to meet youssu.” The blond, Kise, leveled him for a moment before averting his eyes to the cup in his hands - which he was holding with both hands, a little tremble still evident, he noticed.

Sensing the guy was still a bit worried and him not exactly the expert at making people feel comfortable, he replied, “Aomine Daiki. Sooo…. worms??”

Kise actually cringed, “Ha ha. Lets just say that I have a few friends who thought it was good idea to gift me fishing gear for my birthday.”

“Fishing?”

“And that’s not all. Apparently they were quite particular that the gear would not be complete without the bait bucket which since, I didn’t or haven’t had any experience with fishing of any sort, accepted it without thinking too much about it. Which proved to be a hilariously wrong idea as I am a curious person and wondered what my “precious” friends had given me and spent all afternoon trying to set things up before I opened the bucket and SURPRISE SURPRISE……and here we are.”  he gestured to the two of them, huffing a little after his irritated rant.

Aomine, on the other hand, was a goner. Kise’s eyes were now hard gold with some kind of fury sparking them from inside, they held a special glow, almost hypnotizing him. They drew him in. All of him drew him in. And he knew nothing about the guy except his exceptionally good looks, his voice having a chirpy, happy quality, his name, his job, the fact that he had crappy friends and that he was afraid of worms.

He didn’t know his timings, what color he liked, how he took his coffee in the morning, whether he liked having pets, what were his hobbies, whether he played basketball, was he gay…there were so  _many_  that he wanted to know.

Taking a sip of that horrible coffee, he blurted out, sounding a bit unsure, lacking the usual charm that he always exuded, interrupting the guy’s rant,“So hey, I am a cop.  So, um, I will, uh, give you my number. In case anything happens. Ok? No need to scream my ears out next time.”

The blond, Kise (what a name!! - Kise, Kise….) brightened up immediately, “Oh. Thank you!! Thank you really!! Please be rest assured nothing like this will ever happen again. I promise.”

He beamed and it stopped Daiki’s heart. He turned to stone when the guy gave a smile that could probably power an entire town with its brilliance. OH MY GAWD. BE STILL MY BEATING HEART. Daiki cursed the blush that threatened to creep up his cheeks and thanked his wonderful hereditary for giving him a skin that could mask it atleast a little.

Kise continued, oblivious to his inner turmoil, “Um, Do you….I mean….If its not too much, would you take away the bucket? I think I would probably end up having an aneurysm just by being in the same room as that.”

Daiki grumbled, he would probably get a cardiac arrest by being in the same room as the arresting and overly cute blond. Taking a deep breathe, he let his usual self take over when he saw the guy look at him a little pleadingly - he used an advantage when he had one. Besides, who knows when he will get another chance as good as this?

“Suuuure. But it doesn’t come for free. Dinner. Tomorrow night. Deal?”

Kise’s eyes widened, his jaw fell a little off of its hinges, and he gaped at him for full five minutes without a word - he thought it was a pretty funny sight - before some red started popping up at his cheeks then went up to his ears and then painted his entire face red.

Ah shit. Seeing him blush was making him blush too. Was he being too cheeky? Coming off too strong? He just wanted to know the guy better. The great Aomine Daiki wouldn’t blush like a schoolgirl - of course not. Satsuki would have never laid off of the teasing if she had seen this. He counted his blessings for that. This was not good, not good at all. He thought of so many other random stuff to keep himself from blushing when he saw the blond nod slightly.

“Yeah okay. Dinner would be nice.” His voice was a bit muffled as he hid his face behind his hands and peeked at him through the gaps between his fingers.

Aomine felt elated, embarrassed and little relieved that his - obviously - great way of picking up had gone off smoothly. He also felt his instincts telling him that this might work after all. And as a man of instincts, he firmly believed that, as he smiled at his blushing neighbor over a cup of terrible coffee.


	33. Akafuri

Seijuro was used to saying NO to dating. It was something he avoided, as a principle. The time spent dating, he felt, could be utilised for something much more useful and non taxing. He found no use in wasting time with someone who didn’t know him or what he did for a living.

But, unfortunately or rather fortunately, he couldn’t muster enough excuses to refuse the blind date that was coerced upon him by the combined forces of his cousin brother, Kuroko Tetsuya, and his neighbor, Mibuchi Reo (his personal self-proclaimed ‘wingmen’).

And here he was, sitting in front of a shy brunet who was indeed very eye catching in the casual clothes that he wore and talking as if he had known him for all his life. It had started out simply enough, a meet at the cafe on a lazy sunday afternoon, the brunet being a little shocked at seeing who he was (maybe his formal, stoic appearance put off people, he thought), being jittery while giving their orders (admitting that he had been pushed by Tetsuya for this) then relaxing bit by minuscule bit as the minutes flew by and soon started chattering seamlessly about the latest novels and music and all the places that he has yet to visit. 

Seijuro found himself enjoying being around the harmless, cheery, ball of sunshine, who radiated warmth with every one of his wide-thousand-watt smiles. He opened up a little about himself, which to him was a  _huge_  deal and conversed with Kouki about everything under the sun as the balmy afternoon outside the cafe soon gave way to night shadows, darkening everything they enveloped. They talked for hours without noticing anything but each other as the sunlit cafe soon was illuminated by artfully decorated lampshades overhead. They were so wrapped up in the bubble of their own world that only when a discreet cough by a poor waiter standing near their table quite uncomfortably was heard, made them aware of the time that flew by as they hastily ordered dinner.

As much as he felt at ease, a gnawing fear soon overtook Seijuro and with every minute passing by, he felt it taking more and more space in his mind until it placed itself firmly in the forefront, refusing to move away. He felt it of utmost importance to share the problematic issue that was plaguing him with this gorgeous person who sat before him, whilst wondering incredulously if it was possible to fall in love in less than six hours.

He reached out, gripped one of Kouki’s hands in both of his and looked at him in the eye, silently imploring him to not look away despite the blush that they both felt creeping up and painting their faces.

“I know this is a first date but I’m a divorce lawyer and a combination of my parents’ rocky relationship and my profession makes me basically “undateable” and I usually do not date for this reason but I really felt it extremely imperative to tell you because I really like you and want you to stop me if I try to avoid commitment with this same ridiculously lame excuse. Forgive my language, I am not used to being so…open. Or inarticulate. I am usually better at words than this. But something about you makes me that way….So..”

Kouki wrapped his slightly trembling hands in his and told him, in a very firm manner, very much unlike the jittery self he was mere hours ago,“I feel the same way about you. I will not force you into a commitment you are ready for Seijuro. But I  _will_  stop you from running away when you actually want one but are too scared to be in one. I promise.”

Seijuro looked into those butterscotch eyes and exhaled a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He felt his chest free up a little as if a great load had suddenly been lifted off of it. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against Kouki, closed his eyes and whispered, “Thank you.” 

“You are welcome. Now, lets eat dinner, shall we?”


	34. Nijimayu

“So…..what color is this?”

Shuuzou glared at the offender, not that it made much of a difference; the snarky little shit just stood that smirking at him, holding a……shirt of, “…red?”

“Close. Its dark green.” Chihiro answered as he placed that despicable shirt back on the rack, conveniently leaving it to the store staff to fold it…….only to pull out another one with an even more infuriating smirk. Now this was just getting better and better.

Shuuzou took a few deep breaths to calm down, reminding himself that he knew his new study partner was an A-grade asshole even before signing up for the group assignment. What he hadn’t anticipated was for him to accompany him to the mall for grocery shopping - and drag him to the clothing store extension of it on the pretense of buying him a thank you gift. He should have known never to trust little shits like him, he was accustomed to the likes of Akashi, Kuroko and Himuro after all.

“And now, thi-”

“If you ask me ‘what color is this’ one more time, I swear I’m going to punch you in the face. Don’t you dare think I won’t.” He snarled and stormed off the shop. He was finished buying what he needed anyway.

Chihiro quickly followed him, and soon matched his furious stomps with his smooth strides. The guy never makes a single noise, he thought, unless he saw him with his own eyes, he wouldn’t know he was there. That made him suddenly remember one of his wretched juniors from middle school and a reminiscent smile ghosted his lips. Which didn’t go unnoticed.

“For a guy with a name that  _literally_  means a rainbow village to be strikingly color blind - you really are a riot aren’t you?”

“Are you trying to pick a fight with me?”

“Nope. Just curious. So what caused it? I am thinking you weren’t born with it.”

“I got warped by a fucking rainbow. Now for fuck’s sake, just shut up.”

Shuuzou sensed that the guy had stopped walking. He stopped and turned to rant at him about being late to their afternoon class, when he saw the guy staring- no,  _gaping_ \- at him, jaw slack and a - _priceless_ \- shocked expression on his face before he opened and closed his mouth a few times like a fish and choked out, “Oh holy fuck, you too??”


	35. Masashi

It popped up on his laptop screen. The notification that is. A small bubble informing him of a new message. Might be important, might not be.

Akashi Masaomi halted in his relentless attack of keys, unblinking eyes that were previously fixated towards the rapidly scrolling cursor and numerous stock figures flashing on the screen, sliding down to the far right of the laptop screen to glance at the bubble.

He didn’t bother to stifle the long suffering sigh that escaped him.

_Rakuzan High School invites you to witness this year’s Winter Cup Final of the Boys Basketball Club to be held on…._

Work momentarily paused, he leaned back in his chair, posture slacking and arms falling limply to his sides. He gazed at the ceiling trying to find a solution to the tumultuous emotions that swirled inside his head. For years, he had stayed away from watching Seijuro’s matches regardless of whether work occupied him or not. Regardless of the long looks Seijuro would grace him after coming home from the countless matches. Regardless of how Seijuro would announce at the dinner table that he had won, the words "but you weren’t there to see it" would be left unsaid - conveyed loud and clear nonetheless. Regardless of how those unsaid words would claw at his chest, making him incapable of making eye contact with those piercing crimson orbs. Regardless of how his indifferent words of "Is that so" sounded fake even to him.

He was _absolutely_ sure that he wouldn't be able to keep up his strict, unfeeling façade - a façade carefully, _painstakingly_ built for almost 8 years - if he ever went to see the match. _Absolutely_ sure that he will break down as soon as he sees Seijuro take possession of the ball in his capable hands. _Absolutely_ sure that all the pent up feelings of longing, frustration, despair, guilt, utter helplessness will once again bait him and wreck every living nerve in his body.

Sighing, he reopened one of the videos of Seijuro’s previous matches. He felt the extremely familiar sensation of dread raging his insides as he watched his son do a crossover against the mousy haired point guard of the opposite team. Seijuro never moves, he dances. Seemingly effortless, entirely graceful, he weaved in and out of the formidable defense of the other team before passing the ball to the long haired shooter mid air to make the basket. He viewed the way his teammates clamoured around him, ruffling his hair and high fiving him before returning to position with his fingers shaking on the armrests of the chair, mouth trembling and eyes watering up.

Raising a shaking hand to cover his mouth lest he start whimpering, he shut his eyes, tightly as the persistent sobs began destroying his shuddering frame. He vaguely heard the buzzer signalling Rakuzan as the winner and chanced to peek at the illuminated screen to see Seijuro walk over to the opponent team, offering his hand to the shorter brunet point guard and helping him stand up from where he had fallen. He snapped his laptop shut at that moment, for he did not see Seijuro walking over half the court to help the other player.

He did not see Seijuro making all the moves like a fast paced waltz to make the baskets.

He did not see Seijuro calling all the shots with his pointer finger in the air or merely through eye contact like an extremely prodigious tactician.

No.

All he saw was _her_.

Hands covering his face, tears spilling relentlessly, his entire body shivering, endless ocean of guilt and utterly frustrating helplessness roaring against his throat and gnawing at his bleeding heart, he sat there as yet another notification informing him of an important life event of his son’s life would be deleted from his inbox.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To clarify, the email notifying Masaomi is about Seijuro’s last Winter Cup in high school. And the match he watched in his office was Seijuro’s second year Winter Cup - against Seirin if that wasn’t very obvious.


	36. Akafuri

Was it a hundred? Was it a thousand?

A thousand.

A thousand people. 

Maybe more. 

Maybe ten thousand.

And they have all come Kouki. They have _all_ come to see you fall flat on your face on the stage and embarrass your illustrious husband. 

Ohhhhh, he should have refused. Or pretended to be sick. Or flown to America to hibernate with Kuroko and Kagami for a few days. Or changed his identity. Or preferably died. Anything. Anything at all, to save himself and Seijuro from the shame he would surely bring upon the Akashi name.

But NOOOO. 

_Oh no_. What he _had_ decided to do was get a tailored three piece suit and arrive at this lavish banquet which was currently teeming with the upper crust of the society. People who were rich enough to buy out a small country. People who were powerful enough to sway numerous governments. People who were important clients of the Akashi Corporation.

All have gathered here today to witness the scion of the Akashi family hang his head in mortification because his partner, Akashi Kouki could _not_ live up to the Akashi name.

A nervous whimper escaped his throat.

“Kouki, its time.”

Whipping his head around, he was met with the kind, comforting look of his other half. Half formed protests and pleas died in his throat when he realised the enormity of the situation, the gaze of his beloved bringing back the significance of this meeting to the forefront of his mind. Staring at him for a few more treacherously slow ticking moments, he tried to take solace in the small reassuring smile Seijuro sported.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

It didn’t help.

He knew his face resembled that of a deer caught in headlights, his hair was messy even after styling for hours and he probably had stinky armpits too.

But it was now or never.

For Seijuro was counting on him.

Yanking Seijuro's extended hand toward himself and gripping it tight enough to form bruises on the perfectly smooth pale skin - he shall apologise for that later - he whisper yelled in his husband’s ear, “Don’t let go, okay? I need you.”

Seijuro squeezed his hand and whispered back, “I will not. _Ever_.”

Partaking a smidgen of the overwhelming confidence his spouse exuded in waves, he steeled himself, willing the frown lines on his forehead to disappear for the next few crucial minutes and waited for the announcer to call him on stage.

 

Seijuro never took his eyes off of Kouki. He watched with growing admiration, a proud smile bubbling at his lips, the corners quirking up as his better half made the promotional speech like a pro. His delightfully fresh and sweet voice _never_ wavered in its delivery, words _never_ stuttered in their execution. The modulation of Kouki’s slightly high pitched voice was perfect in every sense. The passion and the spirit behind his speech _ringed_ with every word spoken. The pin drop silence of the room attested to that fact.

Even if he still gets flustered at all new things and changes in general, Kouki had come a long way from being the quivering coward he had been labelled as in his school days. Nine years down the line from when they first met each other, he still held the same unwavering, unrelenting, passionate, warm, glowing, caring spirit that was his true nature. 

Kouki didn’t need to hold his hand anymore, his grip had slacken and his breathing was more even now but hell would freeze over before Seijuro breaks his promise. Feeling rightfully exhilarated at the display of strength and political diplomacy by his husband who more than lived up to the Akashi name, he shifted a little closer to Kouki. Pressing a chaste kiss to his temple, he felt him relax under the touch as the room erupted in thunderous applause.


	37. Masashi

Akashi Masaomi sat there.

Clueless.

Bewildered.

Helpless.

The spoon hung in mid air, half outstretched towards his son, his darling two year old son, who out rightly refused to eat the offending vegetable.

He busied himself by yelling indecipherable gargles and thrashed around in the high baby chair at the dinner table, clearly wanting to break free. Cheeks puffed out, blood rushing to paint his milky pale face ripe apple red as he screeched, huge crimson eyes glaring at the upsetting dish in front of him, chubby hands holding on to the tray with enough force to break it, Seijuro expressed his distaste in tonight’s dinner exceedingly vocally.

Masaomi desperately peered at the doorway, his eyes pleading for his wife to come back from the business call she had to attend, to save him from this predicament. Alas, his prayers went unheeded.

As if sensing he was not granted full attention, Seijuro bawled louder than before, the sound grating on Masaomi’s eardrums - he feared permanent damage - making him scramble for ways to quieten his hungry baby. Just as he was about to throw in the towel and run to find Shiori, he remembered what he had seen her doing once.  

_Oh no_.

There HAS to be a better way.

_Any_ other way would do.

But as he heard his son’s cries, his heart clenched in pain. The poor child has not eaten anything yet and was already going hoarse from all the screaming. His cheeks resembled his hair now and there were dried up tears at the edges of his eyes from all the crying. He could only imagine how his baby’s stomach would be growling like a roaring lion now. 

He had teased Shiori about the playful tactics she had used to trick Seijuro into eating his otherwise hated food, with much fervour. He had taunted her by saying it was undignified and pointless if she couldn’t make him eat it properly - he had gotten chastely swatted for that remark. He silently swore to himself that he would never do something so _unsightly_. Or unbecoming. He would use _reason_ and _persuasion_ to make Seijuro understand the nutritional value of green leafy vegetables if it ever came to that.

But when all his reason was _thrown_ out the window by the hollering child, he wanted to pull his own hair out as he found himself having no other choice.

Internally panicking was _not_ an option.

This was _no_ time and place for dignity.

Taking a deep breath, he mentally prepared himself for what he was about to do. He sent a last beseeching glance to the open door, expecting his wife to materialise before he had to do what he had resorted to do. When it went unheeded as all his previous requests, he turned towards Seijuro and accepted his fate.

 "Ooooohhhh Aaaahhh Here comesss an airrrplaneee~~ Who likes an aiiiirrrplannneeee~…“ Masaomi crooned in a sing - a - song voice, scooping up a spoonful of veggies from the bowl and making all sorts of twists and turns in the air with his arm and waiting with bated breath for Seijuro to take the bait.

Seijuro halted in his hiccupping, the red near his eyes from the few angry tears that had spilled making them look even bigger as he stared wide eyed at his father imitating a plane. His ruby eyes followed the direction of the spoon, finding the dance of it in the air tantalizing as he soon started trilling to it. He laughed, coughed a little and giggled at the way the "plane” seemed to zoom right in front of his nose before making a huge turn and making an abrupt stop near his lips. He promptly opened his mouth to gobble up the "plane" and chomped on the contents of the spoon, snickering all the time.

Masaomi had a hard time trying to not to fist bump in the air. Or slump heavily onto the table. But that was not an _Akashi_ thing to do. Even though dignity took a hit with his absurd performance, he still had some _semblance_ of it left in him. Besides, hearing his boy laugh after all that crying felt like music to his ears. His heart felt lighter because at least now his son was not starving anymore. He leaned closer to brush away the stray tears on Seijuro's face when he felt two chubby palms plant themselves on his cheeks. Seijuro inched close enough to headbutt his nose softly before pulling back to look at him with those enormous pools of soul-piercing maroon red eyes that glinted brightly as if he were a walking miracle and whispered, “Da-da.”

Feeling a sudden surge of unexplainable emotions assaulting him at the inexplicably sweet gesture of his son, he took both the hands tenderly in his to place a kiss on each of the cute little fingers. He couldn’t help getting emotional and sappy in front of his son. He leaned forward to kiss the top of that scarlet mop of hair that so resembled hers and internally thanked the gods for giving him the most precious gift of all. As long as Shiori and Seijuro were by his side, he would be able to conquer _anything_ that life would throw at him. 

Ruffling the silky locks, making Seijuro laugh delightfully in the process, he rolled up his sleeves. He cannot back down now, his son was counting on him to feed him. This whole ridiculous ordeal was worth a thousand times if it meant his darling baby would look at him with his eyes filled with wonder again and call him that affectionately. He beamed at his boy as he picked up another spoonful, deciding this time he shall imitate a monkey.

*

A lone figure stood in the corridor, cautiously hidden by the shadows of the door. Long mane of liquid fire wafted softly as the wind teased the strands. One thin, delicate hand clasped the phone and the other covered her mouth lest she give herself away. She watched with a fond gaze at the image of her usually stoic husband poorly imitate various things - ranging from an elephant to a dolphin to a train - and her son, her bundle of joy, join in with much enthusiasm. As her thumb ached from the continuous snapping of pictures of the scene unveiling before her, she felt her eyes glaze at the poignancy of the situation.

_This_.

This was _all_ she had ever wanted from life.

But Akashi Shiori knew, deep in the cockles of her beating heart where it painfully squeezed the very breath out of her, that this moment will not last forever.


	38. Nijimibu and Akafuri

Reading down the line of items, Nijimura let out a reminiscent chuckle. The beautiful man sitting across him did not let it go unnoticed.

Reo peered at the menu, trying to decipher what his date had found amusing. When he did not find anything out of the ordinary, curiosity got the better of him and voiced out, “What’s so funny?“ 

“There is tofu soup on the menu” - Nijimura snickered - “I knew a guy who would go ape over it.”

Noticing the discreet lettering on the menu, Reo joined in with his own delicate titters, “Ah. Me too. And if he were really hungry or if it was exceptionally delicious, he would chew the tofu with his eyes closed as if he was savouring every bit of it. He would look _soooo_ cute that way." 

"This idiot too! I mean, if he loved it, he would stuff it in his cheeks like hamster! I swear to god, you can almost see sparkles surrounding his head! The whole world would fall apart, but NO - nothing would be able to make him stir from there!”

“Yesss!! And if Sei-chan was in a good mood, he would rock from side to side like a child and want - no, _demand_ - more!! Ah, so _adorable_ you know!! And you can _never_ refuse him when he asks you with those huuuuuge eyes - they are a like a cat’s and they totally make you putty in his hands awwww !! But our Sei-chan is quite the leader you know? He is at the top of everything he does. Its honestly quite scary sometimes but also worrying..”

“Tell me about it. The guy I know is spunky enough to fight with God for the last word! My heartfelt condolences to God if it ever comes to that. He is like this super model student in school and all - student council president, basketball captain, genius since birth blah blah. The brat's candy apple red hair, cat eyes, perfect-to-the-point-of-scary records, basketball skills  - all were enough to hail him as the Red Devil or something! Geh, people didn’t look past all that to see the kid underneath it. I wonder what happened to him since I went off…”

“True. People are superficial. I mean, Sei-chan is only 17 now. He is still a kid that is so precious! He needs to be protected at all costs! Wait….Hold on! You said red hair, perfect grades, student council president, plays basketball….that is too much to be a coinci-Do you know Sei-chan??!!”

“HAH?! Who the hell is ‘Sei-chan’? Wait…You are calling _Akashi Seijuro_ as Sei-chan? THE Akashi Seijuro? And he lets you _call him that_?”

They both stared at each other. Gawking. Gaping. Comprehending. A few excruciatingly slow seconds inched by as they mentally recapped what they had talked about during the otherwise awkward blind date. Recovering, Reo put a delicate hand over his mouth in a poor attempt to stifle the giggles that seemed to erupt out of him. It didn’t help when he saw Nijimura wasn’t faring much better either. When both hands to his mouth did nothing to control, he stopped resisting and let out all his badly contained peals of laughter. Nijimura almost shook, clutching his sides as he guffawed out loudly.

As the laughter faded away, Nijimura reached out to brush away the stray tears formed on the fringe of Reo’s beautiful lashes. “So you know that brat uh? What a coincidence.”

Slightly flushed from chortling for too long and from the kind gesture of his date, he answered, throat a little raspy, “Yeah….Well who knew Sei-chan knew such a handsome guy.” Reo’s eyes twinkled mischievously.

Nijimura _felt_ the blush that crept to his face. Seeing the open challenge in those turquoise pools that sparkled at him, his lips quirked up. Challenge accepted. “You can’t call yourself handsome, princess.”

When Reo grinned at the comment, Nijimura felt compelled to join in. The uncomfortable atmosphere of the first date melted away to form an amiable bubble of candidness. As they picked up the menus again to order the much delayed dinner, Nijimura noted that he probably had to thank Akashi for this.

After he gets Reo’s number and the promise of numerous future dates that is.

*

Somewhere, far away, but not very far, a beautiful milk pale face, scrunched up to sneeze indelicately. The action, completely opposite to the loving way the couple were previously lying in bed cuddling together, threw his boyfriend off the cramped single bed in shock. Looking up from where he had landed on the floor, Kouki massaged his bruised rump as he hefted himself up to settle back into the warm cocoon of comforter. 

“Sei, you caught a cold!" Kouki fished out a napkin from his pajama pocket and offered it to the redhead, who sat upright on the bed rubbing his nose.

Thanking him for the napkin, Seijuro blew into it delicately. "Not at all, Kouki.”

Pulling Kouki close to his chest, Seijuro settled back into the bed and wrapped the thick red blanket around them comfortably. Kouki felt that a qualification to the statement was due. Soon enough, “I am pretty sure someone was just remembering me. Don’t worry about it.”

He left it at that. Feeling Kouki sigh amusedly at the morbidity of his statement and snuggle closer, Seijuro complied and encircled his arms tighter around him. Mentally issuing a warning, he let his eyes shutter close.

_Whoever was thinking of him, better be prepared_.


	39. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moving things from my tumblr.  
> Update #1 - Sorry, but can I hide under your desk? My ex boyfriend just walked in and I'm not prepared to deal with that.

“What are you doing?!”

“…hiding..?” Kouki helpfully supplied.

Akashi groaned, “Yes, I get that Furihata-kun. What I cannot seem to comprehend is…why?“ 

“Ah. Um…ano….t-that’s a bit complicated.” Kouki whispered back, scratching his cheek a little and shifting to a more comfortable position.

Akashi stared at his fellow professor currently crouching under his table and crossed his arms over chest, “Pray tell me. I believe my mental capacity can handle it.”

Kouki crawled even further into the cramped space, hugging his knees to his chest and implored the redhead with what he hoped was a convincing-but-sotto voice, “M-My….um… _ex_ …just came in. He is not even supposed to be here!! We broke up a year ago but….uhhhh…not _exactly_ on good terms….so…umm…till he goes can I stay here? I will make you dinner I promise!!”

Akashi looked from Kouki to the guy in question and back at Kouki. Trying not to let his humongous crush of ten years on the brunet show on his face and also trying in vain to erase the not-so-innocent images of said brunet between his legs but still seizing whatever chance he had to prolong this impromptu connection, he commanded, “Make that a week and we have a deal.“ 


	40. Kikasa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update #2 - There's only one turkey sandwich left in the cafeteria. I don't care how cute you are- that sandwich is mine.

“I have had jobs all week! My face may not show how tired I am but I haven’t slept for more than two hours everyday! Now get off, old man!!“ Kise hissed at the angry-but annoyingly cute-guy with the bushy eyebrows.

"OLD MAN??!! Oi! Atleast you know what sleep is! That’s how you talk to your seniors?! If I wasn’t so fucking tired and you weren’t so pretty I would kick that attitude out of you right now! Take your hands off my sandwich before I crush those manicured nails, pretty boy!!” Kasamatsu yelled at the tall-damn him-blonde, tugging on the poor sandwich’s cover.

Kise blinked, “…what?”

“What?” Kasamatsu blinked. Then rapidly blushed. Then chucked the offending sandwich the blonde’s forehead and yelled over his shoulder, “Aargh!! Just take the fucking thing!! Don’t get any ideas, cocky brat!”

He furiously speed-stomped away without noticing said blonde holding the sandwich and rubbing his forehead while hiding a smirk.

This week had not been so crappy after all. 


	41. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update #3 - “i walked into this restaurant and you thought i was your blind date and i just kind of went with it because i don’t want to eat alone” au
> 
> Three updates in a row! Enjoy!

“I am glad to have become acquaintances with you, Furihata-kun.” Akashi smiled as he shrugged his jacket on, waving a dismissing hand at the waiter as he came forward to help, “We should do this again sometime.”

“H-Hai! Me too, Akashi-kun! Thank you for indulging me! And also…for the bill…” Kouki responded, his voice growing smaller at the end. He had, after all, come to this indubitably fancy place only to meet Murasakibara, the newly promoted sous chef and also his long-time friend. He did not expect to be escorted - rather forcefully - to have dinner with this handsome red haired man.

“Don’t worry about it, Furihata-kun. It was a paltry sum for a good company such as yourself.” Akashi smiled pleasantly, ushering the brunet outside the restaurant. “But do give me your contact number. I would like to get to know you more. If you are amiable, that is.”

“Ofcourse! I-I would l-like the same too. Here.” Kouki convinced himself to enjoy the moment now and bask in the warm glow that the redhead’s smile radiated - _seriously, stop fantasising about his eyes Kouki_ \- and unveil the misunderstanding later. Much much later.


	42. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "we’re at a mutual friend’s wedding on a ferry so after the initial wedding we’re stuck at the afterparty until we get back to shore, and since we both despise huge crowds we just sorta hang around each other and one thing leads to another and we wake up in the same bed" AU

Akashi Seijuro did not do crushes.

Crushes were juvenile. Infantile even. They were finicky susceptible sparks that were present only in romance addled minds of dumb high schoolers and bored housewives.

But when he woke up in bed next to a man with mussed mousy brown hair and mouthed popped open to form an ‘O’ - how does a grown man look so… _delicious_ \- as the sun filtered through the cabin window, his mind cogs halted.

The cute brunet - _Furihata Kouki_ -  whom he had met just yesterday at one of _the_ most boring weddings he had ever been cursed to attend was certainly interesting enough for him to change his mind. They had connected over their shared dislike for weddings outside of land and chatted endlessly on sundry topics as the sun lowered itself onto the horizon and painted everything within the range of vision to hues of red and orange.

Hazel eyes morphed to gold as they gazed at the sun blurring into the distant sea with a faraway look. A content sigh had escaped those lips which almost always blessed others with their sunny smiles.

“Its beautiful isn’t it?”

_Not as much as you_.

If he had thought that Kouki looked angelic only during sunsets, he was sorely mistaken. The clear black sky embellished with pearly full moon and seductively blinking stars had been worse. The pale moonlight that whitewashed everything it could reach had succeeded to enhance the simple yet mysterious beauty that was Furihata Kouki.

Akashi was thankful for the years and years of etiquette drilled into him for stopping him from acting like a dumbstruck fool. 

But he hadn’t been prepared for the morning view to top all that.

When Kouki shifted subtly, inching closer to Seijuro and blinking his eyes blearily before sitting up and rubbing his face with one hand and shuffling the blankets with the other, Seijuro’s heart did a double take.

“Hey…" The brunet bestowed him with one of his trademark too-bright smiles as the sun from the tiny window cast a halo around his head. He looked downright ethereal.

Yeah.

Akashi Seijuro had a crush.

And he crushed _hard_.


	43. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Free Hugs" AU

Stunned.

Stunned to the bone.

That’s what his mind could come up with at the moment.

The redhaired man in the designer business suit, stood there on the sidewalk, stunned to the bone, blinking rapidly, as he was hugged tight by the slightly shorter brunet wearing that ridiculous t-shirt with “Free Hugs!!!” scrawled across it. All three exclamation points included.

He had had a tiresome day, yes. He had had a tiresome year, yes. Hell, he had had a tiresome life. Money, success, fame, accomplishments, praise, excellence, perfection surrounded him. Suffocating him with their extravagance. 

Love, any form of it, evaded him.

It had touched him, teased him, danced around him like a seductive temptress on cold, cold nights making him yearn for it, not once but twice. But cruelly snatched away from his hold both times. 

His mother, who made him laugh, made him feel slightest bit alive, made him feel human. He still felt the lingering sense of his mother’s hand tightly encasing his as she bid farewell on the hospital bed. His family’s material wealth and connections in high places had proved utterly useless to him on that day.  

His horse, whom he shared his birthdays with, who would lick his face as he fed him carrots, had left him the same way. Oh, how he loved brushing him down after the rides. Even though Yukimaru was well taken care of, _very_ well indeed, nothing came close to the childish joy he felt when he smuggled in apples to him at midnight. Lying on top of the haystack, he would sidle up to bury his face in Yuki’s shoulder, sighing contently at the comfort he felt. He hadn’t celebrated his birthdays ever since.

All the success, all the wealth…for what?

When you didn’t know what it felt to be hugged. To be loved. To be looked at with kindness and pride that made your heart soar. To feel light as a feather as you spent time with another. To wake up everyday knowing you had someone who would make you coffee and see you out the door with a kiss. To come home everyday to that kiss, to those welcoming arms, to that place where it seemed like you were in paradise.

He hadn’t kept up any hopes at all. He had long since discarded those feelings as unnecessary. Being alone kept him safe. Kept him from breaking apart. Kept him from hoping only to have it lost. Humans shouldn’t aim too much. That way, they were destined for failure. No one can have it all. That was the price he paid for his genius.

He led his life day to day, working the grind, feeling a blaise sense of satisfaction when being heralded Number One in the “Under 30s to look out for” every year.

At 27 years old, Akashi Seijuro as he was held in the warm arms of a squishy brunet, realised he had led an empty, colourless, depraved life.

What was this strange feeling?

His heart didn’t palpitate like a hummingbird, like depicted in those sappy cliché-filled dramas Reo watches. There were no sudden delusions of waves crashing against a rocky shore, booming sounds that felt like the seas were swallowing up the land. There were no birds or angels singing on clouds. No.

No.

This was something else.

Something…

Much better.

His heart beat slow and steady, a rhythm different from the usual dead beat of monotony. A different beat that spread a different type of blood through his veins. Blood that felt warmer. Stronger. More meaningful.

No gigantic, life threatening waves crashing against a rocky shore but soft, gentle waves that kissed the sandy shore under the pale moonlight. The salty crust of the waves just a shade whiter than the beach sand in the midnight. The water coming up to is ankles, lukewarm water that made him feel alive after however many years. So much more meaningful. 

When the brunet shifted to hold him tighter to his chest, where their hearts beat together - Seijuro’s a little faster than his - Akashi dared to ask him, “Um…Excuse me…I think the time is up?”

The thought of leaving the warmth was unwelcome. Akashi did not want to leave. But he also knew it was inevitable. It had lasted more six Mississippis after all. It was conflicting. He was - this was unfathomable - a little, dare he say, afraid of the answer.

“Uh, yeaaaaaaahhh. But I don’t want to leave just yet. Call me crazy, but you look like you need this.”

Speechless.

That’s the next word his mind came up with.

Letting out a weak chuckle, cursing himself for being so obvious in the need for affection, he let his limp arms wind around the kind brunet.

“Yeah. Yes, I do.”

There, on the sidewalk on a warm summer evening, he noted - perhaps it wasn’t so bad to show his emotions out loud from time to time. Free or not, he still felt warm. But he would rather want this feeling to be with him forever.


	44. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I decided to flip a coin about every decision in my life for a week and that’s how we ended up on a date" AU  
> Tbh it was this was to be wayyyy shorter than what it turned out to be. But I am happy with how it is.

Best decision ever made, Akashi surmised.

Sure, when he flipped the coin this morning to choose between a bagel and a hamburger for breakfast, he had ended up with onion breath for the remainder of the day. And not to mention, the many other mishaps that happened with usage of such method including the decision  - _totally_ unwarranted and insane - to pet a kitten while the mother was nearby. The scars from that still stung. Also, electing to take the train to work instead of his comfortable - _extremely_ comfortable - SUV had been the worst of them all.

Of course, this - this _unorthodox way_ of life - was prone to judgemental errors on his part as well. It was technically just a 50-50 chance of success and happiness. Leaving everything upto fate was not something that made sense in his mind. Shintarou would have argued until the very end about this but he would, just like anyone else, succumb to Akashi's belief sooner or later. He was used to forging his own way through things, by might or by right. He had been almost sure of the probability of his choices but the coin just seemed to stun him with its verdict. Every damn time. And the rare times the coin favoured him with his desired answer, turned out not so praiseworthy either. Rendering him unable to openly scoff at Reo's outlandish challenge of letting fate have a grip over his life for a change. He hadn't met his eyes for the past week except to occasionally glare at him when things went wrong. And they did. Thankfully not catastrophically. But the glares definitely increased in their frequency.

However……he was ready to disregard his contempt at Reo’s bizarre suggestion when he felt strangely at peace in the company of the bookstore owner currently sitting across him. Fifteen years since high school and the quiet companionship that he had been seeking in vain amongst his many friends, he finds it finally at this nondescript little bookshop, closeted away in the obscure streets of downtown Tokyo. And Furihata Kouki didn't look like he had aged a day since.

Sipping the graciously offered and gratefully accepted hot chocolate, letting the sweet and slightly bitter taste linger on his tongue, blanket wrapped comfortably around him, he thanked the gods for the unexpected rain that made him run for shelter under this shop. It was either the bookstore or scurrying like a wet rat hunting for a taxi in this empty neighbourhood; he was very much indebted to them for having mercy on him.

Furihata fidgeted with the hem of the shawl wound around him, glasses sliding slightly down his nose - Akashi's heart skipped a beat, the glasses did _things_ to him - when his face scrunched up a little as he felt the gaze of the gorgeous redhead across him. He scooted further into the chair, folding his legs underneath and held his own cup of melted chocolate in both hands to warm his fingers for a bit.   

“Um…ano-o…..excuse me, Akashi-kun?“

“Hm?”

“Um….its raining pretty heavily …soooo…um…would you mind staying for dinner? I can whip up some onion soup in just a few minutes!”

His mug paused midway to his lips, Akashi stared at the brunet a long moment. The world outside the shop buzzed with activity as wayward pedestrians hurried to find shelter and cars honked endlessly somewhere in the distance; the rain furiously venting its frustrations upon them and droning out nearly everything else. But inside the safety of the bookshop, with hot chocolate and warm blankets and the heavenly smell of old books surrounding them, two souls tentatively inched along a line that they thought would never be crossed. Akashi felt the weight of the coin in his pocket.

He owed Reo a pay raise.

“Why yes, I would love to.”

And Akashi stays, even though he hates onion soup.


	45. Kikasa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "we've been dating for 3 months now so whY HAVEN'T YOU KISSED ME YET" AU  
> For the life of me, I cannot write anything from Kise PoV.

Kasamatsu was just plain frustrated - which usually would be his ‘go-to mood’ for the day but this was beyond that; this broke the knob and entered a new dimension.

And it was all that dumb blonde’s fault, _obviously_.

Stomaching it no further, he stalked straight up to the seemingly oblivious moron and yanked him down by his jersey collar to crush his chapped lips to taste the delectable cherry chapstick that the idiot wore and get what he had been hopelessly waiting around for for almost three months - although he would rather die than admit that.

Ready for a resistance or any kind of fight, imagine his shock when all Kise did was push back and dominate, murmuring in between the kisses, “You certainly took too long to get the hint, Senpai.”


	46. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "we have the same luggage and didn’t check the tags before we left so i’m calling you to exchange suitcases (and you also had some interesting things in your bag so i’m excited to meet you)" au  
> This one turned out too short for my liking. Crack demons don't favour me much.

“Hello? Hello? Is this, um, Akashi? Um, Akashi Seijuro?”

“Speaking. What is it? Who are you?” Akashi answers in a clipped voice, checking his messages on his phone and his head swimming in a pool of schedules and time tables for the things to be done on this short visit to the Hokkaido. His earphones are on full volume but the timid voice on the other end is still getting slightly distorted due to the sound of the beach and the moving traffic from where he is stitting in the taxi.

“Um, Hello? I must be losing you. Hello? Hello? Akashi?”

“Yes yes, it is still me. Yes, I can hear you perfectly. Please do not yell. I will speak louder if you want. Just…don’t yell. Please. What is it?“ He is already tuning the voice out and concentrating on the responses to the queries in his mail box. He types a suitable reply to one and reviews before sending it and moving onto the next one. The voice on the other end hasn’t gotten around to the subject of calling yet. And that starts to irk him a little.

“Oh. Okay. Ok, can you hear me now?”

“Yes…I can. What is that you want and who are you?“ He isn’t even interested in the answer but he hopes the person better have a good reason for calling him at this time.  

“Um, well actually. Uh. You …uh…have my bag.”

Akashi scoffs. “Impossible. I do not.”

“Well, yeah. You do. Your name is on the bag which I have and I have yours, so you have mine….also ummm…if you don’t believe me, why don’t you check the label on the one you are carrying?”

Akashi doesn’t miss a beat. “Excuse me, but is this some sort of a prank? I will have you know, I have far better things to do than travel all the way back to the airport just to prove you wrong. Please get a life and stop harassing people who do.”

He moves on to end the call when the voice suddenly speaks up.

“AHHH WAIT! Hold up! Um. Wow. Rude. But, uh no. Really. You have my bag, dude. And just FYI, I am sort of looking forward to meeting the person who…umm.. has this _interesting_ taste in butt plugs I must say.”

Akashi’s blood runs cold.

_OH FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS THAT ARE HOLY_.


	47. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greek Mythology AU  
> I originally planned something else entirely but was feeling sad at the time and ended up writing for this pair.  
> Achilles and Patroclus's tale (Thetis PoV)   
> Warnings for character death and ghosts.

She remembered the feel of him, heavy in her arms, peaceful and majestic even if he had just been born into the world.

Shiori remembered how she held him to her chest, softly cooing lullabies that even seasoned sailors would fall prey to. Her baby smiled in his sleep, clearly loving her voice. She held him close, long after the song ended, the anguish in her heart making her feel protective. She hugged him to her bosom for as long as she could, whispering silent promises and kissing him all over, letting him know that she would undo the wrong they had done to him.

"I will protect you, sweetheart. Always. I will do everything in my power to make you what you were destined to be." 

*

She remembered running.

Full pelt across the unknown lands to where she would find salvation for her innocent child, she reached the place she sought. The river was quiet at this time of the night. Silent, mysterious and dangerous. The moonlight gleamed on its surface, trying in vain to reach the far off bed but failing ridiculously. The vast river was nearly still; gentle lulling waves lapping at the shore that were contrary to the turbulent current underneath. Shiori stepped lithely on the muddy banks of the river, careful not to jostle the precious one she held in her arms. She gripped him tighter to herself when the chilly breeze wafted across from the land made the child squirm haplessly, what with only one woefully thin robe covering him.

She refused to think of how he was going to get colder, considering what she planned to do.

 _It was for his own good_.

 _It was for his own good_.

She chanted to herself as she dipped a toe in the murky water, before pulling it back quickly and biting back a shriek. She flinched. Even the glaciers on the high mountains seemed tame compared to this freezing river. It was a wonder the water hadn't ice over. And now she was going to subject her darling to this nightmare.

She didn't hesitate.

Steeling herself, she stepped into the river. The strong current tried to push her, fight her and tried to make her move to its unheard tune, but she powered through. Being born a water nymph, she used her powers to calm the force around her to create a shield, where the angry current would be rendered powerless as she wade through. Only when she was deep enough that the water caressed her hips, she stopped.

The buttery moon bathed them all in its white light, softly enhancing the mystery of the scene; where an unfortunate mother stood in the middle of a vast, colossal river, holding out her new born with tears streaming like pearls down her face. She slowly removed his robe, cooing meaningless reassurances tearfully the entire time, knowing that she was going to cause her baby more pain than any mother ever would. Gently kissing his tiny forehead, she lowered him into the mighty Styx.

Terrible.

She was terrible. She was despicable. She was horrid.

Seijuro cried, wiggled and thrashed about as the mystical river worked its magic, drenching him with its power, drowning out his screams and nearly choking him as Shiori held on. She clutched onto only one tiny inscrutable spot on his ankle with her bony thumb and forefinger; the one and only spot that the Styx didn't touch, didn't inflict with its dark magic. Her baby gurgled, accidentally swallowing the water in his cries, chubby limbs flailing wildly to break the surface and breathe the much needed air; but Shiori didn't yield. Even if seeing him like this tore at her like a blazing fire on every nerve in her body.

Finally, after what appeared to be endless eons, she brought him up and cradled him to her chest. Rubbing him furiously with the flimsy robe to warm him and burping the water out of him, she heaved a relieved sigh.

"Sshh. Hush, my little darling. It's okay now. Sshhh. It's all over now."

_It's okay._

_He's okay._

She had done what she had come for. She had succeeded in her quest.

Her son may not be immortal, may never be, but no mortal could harm him now. He was not doomed anymore. Her blossom was safe now.

Seijuro cried in her grasp as the water burned his lungs on its way out and she bopped her nose with his, chuckling at his antics while rubbing soothing circles on his back. She shed happy tears as relieved laughter chuckled out of her in spurts.

The worst was over. 

*

She remembered hiding; carefully put on make up, silken robes and jewellery adorning her baby.  

Shiori dressed him up, day in and day out, as a maid. Covering his boyish features with meticulously brushed rouge, making those wonderfully wide innocent eyes that sparkled like polished rubies look feminine and braiding his long silken flaming red hair that resembled hers into complicated plaits. Ornaments of gold and silver jingled as he traipsed about, wearing clothes made for women. She made certain that he was denied any contact with anybody other than herself and a few trusted friends, taking care to never let go of the tiny hand in hers.

"You are never to talk to strangers okay, precious?"

"Yes, Mother."

She taught him of course. To fight, to defend, to attack, to protect what needed to be protected and to never be afraid. She may have hidden him from the world's view, but there was no way in hell, that she was raising him as anything less than the mighty warrior he was fated to be. She spared no effort in teaching him anything he wanted.

Crossdressing as a girl for almost ten years since his birth and enjoying the company of his mother and her talented friends as they taught him everything they could, Seijuro grew up in the little town, unaware that his inevitable discovery was looming nearer and nearer like a morbid cloud.

*

She remembered leaving.

Leaving her son at the cold, unwelcoming manor of her husband - she _loathed_ associating that word to the likes of him - she deliberately treaded away from the unforgiving place. Whereupon his discovery, she had pleaded, begged and fallen down to her knees and begged some more for them not to take him away from her.

He was just eleven.

So tiny, so young, so pure. Unlike the filth the world was thriving in.

But the die had been cast.

The god of gods, Teppei himself, had come down to her abode to persuade her to hand him over to her husband. She had looked at him with nothing but disdain. He may be the ruler of Olympus and mightier than any other immortal but he had been the one who had caved in when the prophecy was read out. Forcing her into matrimony with a mere mortal just so that Seijuro wouldn't be a god, a god powerful enough to threaten and win against the allfather Teppei - it was all because of him and his greed for power that Seijuro wasn't born an immortal - he held no inch of respect in her. 

But, Seijuro thirsted for knowledge, for battles, for intelligence in warfare, for things which she couldn't teach him. Not on her own.

She relented.

Riding along with him in the carriage, she told him about everything. Of the past, of the prophecy, of his birth, of his strength and most importantly, of his only weakness. Seijuro listened attentively, drinking in every word, knowing that this might be their last meeting. He never let go of her hand for the entirety of the journey.

He had cut his long fiery red hair and wore clothes fit for a boy now. Shiori felt a pang when he had come dressed like that.

It was another bolt to the coffin.

Shiori hugged her precious cherub close when they arrived at the manor gates. Seijuro tightened his grip around her and made her promise to visit him sometimes. She stayed silent, biting her lip to ward off the tears. She let go haltingly, holding onto his hands for the longest time before she pulled him down to place a farewell kiss on his forehead.

"Take care, darling. I will always love you."

"I love you too, Mother."

She registered a small mousy haired boy, perhaps a scant few years older than Seijuro, standing next to the man who called himself her lawful husband and looking at them with unabashed interest before she turned away and started walking the way she had come.

"I promise to take care of him, Shiori."

She didn't even grace Masaomi with a passing glance as she breezed past him.

*

She remembered worrying about Seijuro, which she always did -  she supposed all mothers would - but hers increased in their frequency after he was snatched from her. 

She watched over him from time to time, mostly incognito - to avoid a particular mortal at all costs. As much as she hated Masaomi, she grudgingly accepted his expertise in battle. She may have laid down the groundwork by making Seijuro strong enough to defend himself and others using whatever means available but here, he learnt how to expertly wield all weapons known to mankind.

Masaomi taught Seijuro everything he knew, engaging him in contests beforehand and making him learn from his mistakes and keeping him on his toes. Shaping him into the glorious fighter he was to be.

And he succeeded.

She saw Seijuro becoming better and better, not only against his father but against anybody he was permitted to combat with. Those tiny, soft hands that were too delicate and wore bangles and rings soon embellished themselves with hideous scars and rough calluses. Silken robes were a thing of the past, as the heavy silver armour glinted when the sun showered it with its radiant beams. Day after day of practicing to the point of spitting blood, he craved for knowledge, for intelligence, for power and for victory. Grabbing them at every opportunity. Hoarding them all.

As the years passed by, his eyes which were once filled with wonder, glazed themselves over with indifference and cold calculation. Seijuro grew to be the warrior legends shall speak of for generations. Brave, courageous, prodigious, cunning and every other mettle of both mind and body could be attributed to him. He was feared by his enemies, respected by his peers and admired by his people. She sees him calmly evaluate every move and every possible move in his mind and gaining assured victory in a matter of seconds. Winning against him was an impossible feat, when countless plans of throwing him slightly off of his game proved futile.

Seijuro had become the fearsome soldier he was to be.

An invincible warrior.

An immortal.

A _god_.

She noted with ill-suppressed glee as her child fought against a group of easily 50 soldiers, all alone and as if he was bored of playing with them. Swords clashed, shields clanked and pained shrieks escaped. Yet, Seijuro barely batted an eyelid as another fell from his precise swing of the blade.

At this rate, nobody would ever think that Akashi Seijuro had a weakness.

_Her son was safe._

_Her son was safe_.

Laughter bubbled within her, threatening to brim over and reveal her to the troop; she controlled herself, her heart still racing and her mind tranquil. For the first time in years, she felt light.

She had done everything she could. And it had paid off.

 

She had become so used to seeing no change in his calm expression; she was highly amused to see him smile, rather warmly, at the gangly brunet standing near the doors. Furihata Kouki called him over for being late to dinner and Seijuro nodded once and turned back to the cohort, still smiling warmly.

"Well, gentlemen, this has been fun. But ah, I have to take leave now."

All this time he had just been warding off the attacks and lazily playing along but in the next three short seconds, he annihilated the whole team to re-join the waiting brunet.

"Thank you for your time. Kouki, shall we?"

Shiori didn't miss the way her son wound an arm around Kouki's waist as they strolled back inside. Or the way the brunet leaned on him, with much familiarity. Her instincts flared up with the murky cloud of fear, alarm bells ringing in her ears, her fingers clenched and unclenched at the air; her short lapse of relief seemed like a distant memory. Unknown, incomprehensible, nameless fear gripped her, slowly but surely.

For even though she had hedged the weakness of Seijuro's body, there was no hedging when it came to the weakness of the heart.

*

She remembered pain; gut wrenching pain when she saw Seijuro weep and cry and hold on desperately to the lifeless body of Furihata Kouki.

Slain at the height of battle, wearing the armour of Seijuro.

Seijuro screamed, hollered and shattered everything nearby in his rage. He sank to his knees near his lover and prayed and begged for a miracle. Anything, anything at all to bring back the love of his life. Furihata Kouki had fought brilliantly, proving himself worthy of his position in Akashi's court of exemplary soldiers. Also, as Seijuro's righteous match. But, impersonating Seijuro and taking on an entire battalion on his own had sealed his fate.

Stabbed in the back, warm blood oozing out and staining his lover's armour, Kouki had collapsed on the battle ground. He had claimed the lives of many of his enemies in this war, without thinking twice. But for his own, there deigned a deafening silence...until it was pierced by Seijuro's blood-curdling roar. The inconsolably aggrieved warrior held him in his arms and roared till the gods in Olympus could hear him. The setting sun cast long shadows on the field, its diminishing rays engulfing the tragically separated lovers in an ethereal halo, as if mourning for the true love lost.

He never left Kouki's side. Even as he turned pale and cold and his lips turned blue, Seijuro never once moved away from him. Never once let go of him. Hugging him to himself, he pretended no one else existed. He glared at anyone who approached him, be it for his welfare or for the next strategy to be implemented, he didn't care anymore. Not even his father was spared. More importantly, he refused to bury Kouki.

Shiori watched helplessly as her son lost all vigour, all light as he lay next to his dead lover. She was the only one allowed to be near him, to take care of him when all he wanted to do was to await death. One on hand, she was appeased, that Seijuro did not want to partake in the battle anymore. But on the other hand, her child seemed to be becoming a ghost of the man he once was. And this time, there was nothing she could do about it.

 

"Bury me, Sei. Please."

"Kouki. Kouki. Kouki. No...how could I? How can I live without you? How can I be, knowing you are not there with me? Knowing that I will never....will never see you again!"

"I know, Sei. I should have listened to you. I should have turned back while I was ahead. But I gone..too far. I am sorry. I....I wish I could have had more time with you. I want to spend my life with you. Every life my soul has, I want to live with no one but you. I love you. I love you so much. Bu-"

"I love you too..It is unimaginable how _much_ I love you. I need you like the air I breathe. Like the blood in my veins. I wish to live my life only with you. Every waking day. I wish to profess my love to you every day I wake up next to you. Sleep with you. Live with you. My life....my life is pointless without you in it. Don't go, Kouki. Don't leave me."

Kouki extends a wispy hand and places it near Seijuro's cheek. Seijuro leans into it a little, trying to feel Kouki even though it was impossible.

"I cannot feel your touch anymore. Oh, how I long to touch you again! Please Seijuro, I wish to be buried. I need to go to the underworld. To Hanamiya. Burn my bones, set my body on fire, so my soul can find yours in the next life. And every life after that."

Seijuro gritted his teeth, his shoulders shaking and let his tears fall freely as he nodded to his lover's request.

"Sei. One thing more. A last request - grant it please." Seijuro nodded once, teary crimson eyes never breaking contact with their hazel counterparts. "Never bury my ashes apart from yours, Seijuro. Let them lie together.....just as we grew up together in your palace."

And with that, the ghost of Furihata Kouki vanished into thin air, leaving behind his true love. 

* 

She remembered faceless monsters of dread and despair clawing at her when Seijuro went into battle the next day.

The cremation had happened late last night after the...sinister incident. Piles and piles of wood were lain over his lover's body as Seijuro waited. Shiori observed as he remained calm throughout the process and lit the pyre on fire. Greedy flames started licking away at everything, consuming every inch of life they could grapple. Blistering tongues of fire razed the wood and bones to ash, leaving them a charred heap. Smoke rose high up in the air along with sparks from the cackling fire as Furihata Kouki was finally put to rest.

Shiori stood next to her son and waited until he was ready to leave. Seijuro did not look away even once from the pyre, a strangely determined expression on his eerily calm face. Her instincts warned her of impeding doom, but she spoke nothing and offered only her silent company to her precious son as she had always done.

"Bless me, Mother."

Shiori had foreseen this. Her instincts were always right. The bright morning rays of the sun shot from the horizon as Seijuro stood upright in his armour, hilted sword on his hip and a magnificent shield in his hand. The resolved look on his face showed no signs of deterring. He had taken the decision and nothing could shake him from it. Not even his mother's command. 

Taking a shuddering breath, Shiori capitulated.

"You have my blessing, my darling. May victory and valour favour you. May you return with pride, glory and honour gracing your shield."

She bit her lip from telling him to not go. From announcing the undeniably evil premonitions that plagued her heart. Crippling fear of the unknown shook her form as she waited on pins and needles in his room for every thread of news on her son's performance. She sated herself with the rejoicing news of the death of Kouki's murderer; Seijuro had avenged his love just as he had set out to do. But now that the goal was accomplished, her baby should have returned. He had no other reason to go to war. To stay in it. She wringed her fingers in despair and fidgeted with the hem of her dress the entire time as her heightened senses registered that something terribly wrong was happening in the battlefield.

_Too late._

_Too late._

She threw open the doors and rushed past the guards to where the soldiers were gathering. Her blood ran cold, when she arrived at the macabre scene.

She saw as he crashed to the ground. The arrows piercing his armour did no damage to her valiant son, but there was one that managed to curb his radiant life short.

The fated arrow was aimed straight to the heel.

Battles all around paused in their play as they see the indomitable warrior, the god among men, fall in front of their eyes. Seijuro had descended on the battlefield like an avenging angel, boiling with fury and rage. Countless lives fell prey to the wrath of his blade, his promise of revenge echoing with every swing. Even after beheading the lowly scum that had plucked his love's life, he wasn't satisfied. His bloodlust raged on.

Until the stray arrow struck him at his heel, unerringly.

Shiori screamed.

*

She remembered staying behind, after everyone had left.

The gods, the soldiers, his fellow team members, Masaomi had all come to see him and give him the send off he deserved. The legend that was Akashi Seijuro.

Shiori stayed behind on the side lines as the ceremony fizzled out. Despite Masaomi's repeated requests of burying their son's ashes in their family estate, Shiori insisted on this place. She ambled across to sit near the freshly dug grave, the tomb indicating her son's name in a neat writing.

Next to the grave of his lover. Their ashes contained in identical golden urns buried underneath the soil.

She conjures up some flowers and covers the graves with them and sighs.

She had done everything in her power.

Everything to remedy the cards that were dealt. Seijuro was to be born a god, powerful enough to overthrow Teppei and become the ruler of Mount Olympus. But fate had been cruel to him, thwarting every move his mother had made. The prophecy was ceased brutally from happening like a pretty rose nipped at the bud.  

Her son was not to be cursed this way.

Struck down at the prime of his life, his only love wrenched away from him, destroying the years of happiness they would have had together.

She tucked her legs underneath her and she pondered, feeling atypically hollow. Red rims circled her eyes and there were dried tears sticking to her cheeks but she felt peculiarly empty.

She reasoned that the initial shock of seeing her blossom burn on the pyre had rendered her an unfeeling mess. She painstakingly made crowns out of the flowers she had created, twining the twigs and leaves and strategically placing the flowers in between. She wanted to cry, she wanted to tear up and scream and writhe on the floor but she felt nothing. A suspiciously abnormal calm had taken over her heart and her mind. She placed the crowns atop the tombs and sat back with her chin on knees and arms encircling her legs, listlessly. Resembling her muddled thoughts, the sky retained its gloomy atmosphere, as if in a dilemma to whether rain down or glide away.

Shiori sensed movement and glanced up to find Seijuro standing in front of her, Kouki on his side. They stand with their arms around each other and smile at her.

"Hello, Mother...please do not feel sorry for me...please go home...please do not stay here...I am happy. I am finally with Kouki. We are together...at last."

Shiori stared, dumbfounded.

Seijuro outstretched, placing his hands on either side of her face and cupping her cheeks, "Do not ever feel guilty, Mother. You have given me everything that I could ever ask for. Even if things ended the way they ended, I am happy now. Kouki is with me. And that's all I ever wished for. Thank you, Mother, for being there for me, for being the best, for everything. I am proud to be your son. Goodbye, my dearest Mother."

Kouki smiled winsomely at her and Seijuro pulled back. They bent down to kiss her forehead before they started to saunter away from the graves and towards the shrouded figure in the dark corner who would eventually escort them to the underworld.

 

They went hand in hand, shoulders brushing against each other and kissing every now and then - wearing the matching flower crowns she had just made.

 

She remembered that was when her dam broke, skies opened and poured, agreeing with her as Shiori let her tears fall endlessly like an unstoppable torrential rain.


	48. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i use morse code to talk to my friend during class but it turns out you know morse code too and now you know that i think you have a cute butt AU  
> Hadn't written thirsty Furi in a while.

What a stroke of luck.

First, he got dibs on the seat next to the window in almost all classes; second, he got the prized bread on the first month of school. Thirdly, he was in the same class with Kuroko and Kagami this year as well.

And now the new student would be sitting directly in front of him Monday through Friday for Japanese History and English classes.

Ah.

This school year was turning out _just fine_.

Furihata Kouki never thought Lady Luck favoured him until that day.

But right now, sitting next to Kuroko, taking down notes on differences between present and past continuous with the red haired cutie right in front of him, Furihata thought that maybe he was wrong.

After all, just yesterday, the cutie had turned around and asked for a pencil from him.

Man, those eyes.

It was different up close.  Sure, he had seen them a hundred times for the past four months. But so near and focused only on him sent him tingling all over. He ended up giving his own and borrowing one from his silently judging neighbour.

It wasn’t even just the eyes. Considering he had the best view of the gorgeous redhead without ever getting caught, he didn’t even try to hide his ogling at the guy’s sexy bod. All lanky and slim even though he was almost the same height as Furi but so so so much better. Oh gods yes. Those muscles that bunched in the shirt when he stretched his arms over his head, or how the fabric pulled across those drool-worthy back tendons, enunciating each curve and dip was too beautiful to look at.

Now those were works of art. By the gods.

And he hadn’t even mentioned how great that cute little ass looked when he stood up. So tight and firm. Furi made sure he stood up just a little after the redhead just to see it in action.

Oh! When he walked…. _oh my_. It clenched with every step. And those pants left little to imagination.

He couldn’t control his adoration for them today and history was boring anyway so he tapped a discreet few thunks on his desk. He knew Kuroko would know what he meant. They were library nerds enough to use morse code all the time. The dashes and dots were practically the alphabet to them now.

But what he didn’t expect was his subject of adoration to tense up for a moment and slowly turn to look at him with a smirk, “Why, thank you for thinking that," - and he give him once over before widening that damning smirk - "but truth be told, I like yours better.”


	49. Kagakuro

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "DO NOT HELP ME GET THE CEREAL OFF THE TOP SHELF I CAN DO IT MYSELF" au

Kagami sighed when he entered the kitchen. He almost wanted to smash his palm into his face and break his nose but that would be painful so he resigned himself to sigh. Eternally.

He moved to put on his apron and pick up the pan to set it on the stove and start breakfast. He did not comment on the spectacle near him, yet. He wouldn’t.

“..ngh!…hnnngh!” - huff, huff - “Oh, good morning Kagami-kun. What - pause - hngh, are we having today?” Kuroko was still on his toes, arms outstretched to reach the evasive box of Fruit Loops on the top shelf. Apparently, still strong on the ‘no-need-of-ladder-I-can-reach-things-just-fine’ policy. He was no closer to using it than Kagami was to giving up on burgers. 

The poor neglected stepladder looked sorry for itself. Leaning against the sink, still unwrapped. It looked desolate. Despite the cute flowers and butterflies painted over it. By hand. By Kagami. As a gift.

But would Kuroko use it?

_No_.

Kagami sighed, “Toast and cereal. Also, one more thing.” He moved to pick up Kuroko by the waist and hefted him up easily enough, to kiss him on his mouth. Kuroko’s hands that were vainly trying to reach the box, clamped themselves on it when he was lifted. Kagami placed Kuroko back on his feet, an arm still wound around his middle and the other softly brushing his light blue hair, "There, you happy? Great, now we can eat.“

Kuroko moved to shake out the cereal and pour the milk as Kagami set the plates on the island counter. He made no effort to hide his pout, “Taiga-kun is not playing fair at all.”

Revenge tasted sweet, as Kuroko saw the fierce blush creep into his boyfriend’s cheeks at the sound of his first name.

He doesn’t have to tell him about the times he did use the lovely and charming gift, the times when Taiga wasn’t there nearby.

Nope. Not at all needed.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting a really short fluffy drabble because I am still overwhelmed by all the wonderful comments on my other huge fic.  
> You can find it [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7847770)  
> I shouuuld write another akafuri thing to really get it all off of my chest.


	50. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "You just took a sip of my drink, which means you indirectly stole my first kiss. Please take responsibility for your actions." au
> 
> Writing silly things again to get back to writing serious stuff. Also the comments on [this fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7847770) still make me blush like a lovestruck high school girl.

Akashi was waiting impatiently for his coffee to arrive, fingers drumming on the counter, when he felt someone push through the crowd behind him and shove him just a little to the side to thrust one hand towards the bored barista.

The barista looked on with clear disinterest. with his dead fish eyes, giving not a shit to whatever happened in front of him and chewing his gum lazily and popping the bubbles from time to time.

Furihata was still looking at the door and the street outside, frantic worry etched in every one of the tired circles under his eyes. “One coffee, please! To go!” His back was to the counter, and to the person he had pushed aside, he was so drained of energy that he wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for the fact that he was to stay awake for the next two hours. His assignment was due today and _of course_ , he had procrastinated till the last minute and the professor would be here in an hour and he had discovered five minutes ago that he was short on coffee and - _why wasn’t it here yet??_

“Here is your coffee. Thank you.” Another barista slid Akashi’s coffee to him. He nodded and picked it up. Just when his mouth touched the rim-

“Ahh thank you!” Furihata, still with his eyes on the door, strumming with nervous energy, hastily dropped the cash on the counter and snatched the cup from Akashi to gulp down a few mouthfuls. He was already moving to rush his way out of the place and back to dorms where his laptop was waiting for him when he was yanked by his sleeve by someone.

“Whaaat?” He turned and had to focus for a while to register the glaring amount of red that stared back at him. Nobody’s eyes should be that colour. It looked unhealthy.

The stranger still had a grip on his sleeve and a frown on his face. “You stole my coffee.”

“Huh? No. I paid.”

“You had to wait in line. You are supposed to. But, no. You stole mine.”

“Look,” Furihata found it unbearable and pointless to keep up this conversation. He had been up for the past 37 hours, neck deep in his homework. He _doesn’t_ need this. He rubbed his temple, “Ok fine. Sorry. You can take the one I ordered. Are we done here? Cause I got places to be.”

He tried to turn before another yank on his arm stopped him. “You stole more than that.”

Huh? Furihata frowned. This was getting tiring. The new professor was supposed to be strict too, if the rumours were to be believed. He really needed to go and make a good impression on that guy, if only this idiot would just let him fucking _leeeeeave._

“Dude. I told you. Go get that coffee. I didn’t steal your money or anything. Just-”

“You stole my first kiss. Take responsibility.”

Furihata facepalmed.

[To his credit, Furi says no. And runs. Only to find that the new professor is Akashi. Who gives him an A and his phone number.]


	51. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Furihata tries his hardest to act perfect in the drama but Akashi keeps on derailing him from the script." AU  
> I actually wanted to post a longer drabble but then I didn't finish it. Sorry.

This was not _fair_.

Kouki internally complained as he pranced around on the stage spewing about the magic of love while engaging in a verbal battle with the supposedly lovestruck and airheaded princess. But said airheaded princess was far _far_ more interested in the mechanics of romance and was countering him with extreme wit, he might add.

It was good. Challenging, sound and insightful arguments, and he cannot stop himself from rambling just as much and agreeing to the captivating actor. It felt great to connect with someone who had the same sardonic views on the widely capitalised concept.

He had heard stories about his fellow actor; the attractive redhead beneath the dozen layers of padding, twirling around in that fluffy pink dress that, frankly, looked too heavy to manoeuvre _that_ freely, breezing through lines in spite of wearing that uncomfortable corset that hardly allowed anyone to breathe and carefully made up face that just had a tad too much rouge on the cheeks. 

He knew his partner was an amazing speaker, a stellar performer and would have won the part for the prince if it weren’t for the director’s last minute decision to change the line-up, but, he had a _role_ to play. And his role did not warrant him acting like a complete nerd, giving his cynical views on the socially over-exaggerated theory of romance but as a prince with a boorishly loud voice proclaiming love to the princess.

He hissed as he danced close to Akashi, “Stop, already. People are _whispering_. Stick to the lines!“

And before he could pirouette out of Akashi’s reach, he found the ‘princess’ spin him a little too close to himself, his lips close to Kouki’s ears and purr in a velvety voice that set Furi’s nerves on fire, “Don’t even dare to think we are done.” 

[They argue all the time as they change. Furi thinks Akashi looks good with red lipstick and gold earrings. And then argue through dinner. And make plans for the weekend to argue more.]


	52. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Akashi Kouki discovered his husband's stash of gay porn. The problem was, Seijuro had drawn them.  
> Oops I forgot to post this here.   
> For Vanessa, a trying-to-be-humorous fic for a humorous friend.

Furi’s whole life had been a lie.

It was confirmed, sealed and taped to his forehead with a bright red sticker.

He was sure.

Akashi was normal. Or had _been_. If it weren’t for Furihata’s stupid obsession with cleaning their already tidy place, he would have  _stayed_ normal. 

They both liked reading. They both liked watching anime and those dumb Korean dramas where they pretended they didn’t like it but followed it almost religiously. They knew what colour the other liked, what foods each preferred, what were each other’s sizes. Just normal stuff that every couple knew. No big secrets. Not even about porn preferences.

Then what _the hell_ was this drawing tablet doing hidden under all those files Akashi had brought home from work?

He had unlocked it. Of course.

Only major flaw with Akashi Seijuro was that he didn’t use complicated passwords. It was either _Kouki <3_ or _Yukimaru#1_ or _Shiori#Mom4life_. Furi sometimes feared that all any hacker had to do was talk to Akashi about these for two minutes and he would be bestowed with access to the world’s secrets.

Oh well. Another time for worrying that.

Right now, his mind had set itself on fire with what it discovered on said tablet.

The art was freaking awesome.

That was Furi’s first thought. Which _should_ have woken him up. At least a little. Because accidentally discovering that your darling husband had a beautiful art style must be secondary to the shock that the said darling husband drew gay porn, right? Right.

But _no_.

The colours, the background, the setting, the anatomy, the shading, the everything. Just....incredible. So beautiful that Furi felt tears stinging his eyes.  

Yup.

Furi had been had.

Lied to for who knows how long.

It felt like he stumbled onto Akashi’s secret love affair.

And the worst part was not even this. Not the sense of betrayal that stemmed from this accidental discovery.

The worst part was they were all  _his_ OTP.

His.

All Furi’s.

The secret ship that very few in the fandom shipped. The one he couldn’t even shout out to the other shippers for fear of shiphate. The one he persistently wrote fanfiction for, just to satisfy his own thirst. For which he had gotten a grand total of ten notes up to date. Such was the fate of falling into the rarest of the rare pair hell.

And Akashi had drawn mindblowing fanart for them.

And they were so lovely. On closer look, they seemed to be just _so_ in compliant with his headcanons. Some even looked like they were scenes taken out from his own fictions. Which was laughable.

Akashi had drawn fanart. Okay. That was acceptable.

But fanart for _him?_ That was _ridiculous_.

That just wasn't possible! It must have been a sheer coinci-

Oh.

NO.

Furi barely managed to slap a hand on his mouth to muffle the high pitched scream that seemed to eke out. His hands shook and his brain felt like exploding. He was holding in his hand ( _oh dear gawd_ ), the art that was fandom _famous_. Literally every blogger who even _remotely_ shipped these two had reblogged this. _With tags_. He had thought it was pure  _luck_ that the famous artist had seen his work and had drawn a scene from it and linked him. He had been very sure that he had attained heaven that night. But to think it was his own _husband_.....

"Kouki, have you seen my-" Akashi stops in the doorway, eyes wide in horror. Before he recovers himself, albeit badly. Hands flailing, blushing rapidly, he stutters, "Kouki! It's-It's n-n-not what you think, I swear! You have to believe me!! I just-I just-" He is cut off when the brunet jumps off the bed to kiss him, full on the mouth. Akashi freezes, his arms falling limply to his sides as he lets Kouki kiss him, as he stands confused.

Kouki pulls off an inch, "Why didn't you tell me?" He holds Seijuro's face in his hands, caressing his cheeks with his thumbs and their foreheads touching.

Seijuro sighs, his breath mingling with Kouki's; he can get a strong whiff of his husband's spicy cologne and winds his arms loosely around the brunet's waist. "I...I didn't think...I didn't know yo.....I...honestly....do not know. I am so sorry...I lied. I am sorry."

Kouki kisses him again and rubs his forearms in a comforting way, "Heyyyy...it's okay...More than okay! _I_ am surprised that my husband has such a talent, really! I mean! You are already a prodigy! And now, this! Is there anything that you cannot do?!"

Seijuro lets out a weak chuckle, hugging Kouki a bit tighter to himself, feeling light and warm, "Wellllll...now that you mention it......there is something which I cannot do. It's embarrassing, really."

"Oh?! I need to know! Come on, Seijuro~"

Seijuro shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath, ".....It's writing! There, I said it. I know. I know, I can talk _very well_ in meetings, have my way with words in a conference, give a speech on the spot, but! Guess what, I cannot write two sentences about two people in love! Nope! Not even as corny as the love poems I tried to write for you when we first started dating.....which I burnt because I didn't want any evidence. Now, please go ahead and lau-" He feels Kouki's finger on his lips, shushing him.

"Heyyy.....I am not laughing, Sei. Look at me, come on....come on~" Seijuro slowly opens his eyes to see Kouki smiling at him, giving him a warm smile.

"So...you are not judging me?"

"Mhmm"

"So...I can continue to draw for my favourite pair? I don't have to hide it or stay up late after you sleep to draw anymore?"

"If you promise to tell me about every single piece of art of yours, then yes. Yes, absolutely, yes. Yes you can draw however, whatever, whenever. And!" Kouki drills a finger in his chest, glaring half-heartedly. "I would rather you do it when you are free than sacrifice your sleep for this. You already don't get enough anyway."

"Really?!! Because I draw only for this pair and oh! Kouki! I swear, I draw mainly because there is this one, just _one_ author's whose writing is so good, it practically called out to me! You have _got to_ read their works! You will understand what I am talking about. Let's see.." Seijuro drags them both to the bed and starts searching on his phone for the bookmarked page to load. Kouki sits next to him, legs folded up on the bed and waiting for Seijuro to show him the 'famous' author. A little bit jealous, a whole lot curious. He tries hard to keep his face impassive and not let his lips pull into a pout.

Who is this author anyway?

Is it the one-? That one that wrote-?

Oh yeah. It would be that one.

Of course. Not Kouki.

That one drawing? Purely by chance.

Surely-"Here! This is them. You should read their Railway Romance! No, no. You should read every single one of theirs! All are SO GOOD. So relatable....Kouki? What happened?! Are you _crying_?!!"

Kouki wipes the stray tears and hiccups a laugh. It should have been embarrassing to find out that Seijuro had read his fanfiction. But instead it had been an overwhelming wave of elation that Seijuro had drawn fanart for his fanfiction and recommends them to him. Shaking his head, he hugs his bewildered husband.  

"Ohhhh nothing! Really!...Well...I suppose...we can do a collab in the future then?"


	53. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fast and Furious AU - to be fair, I watched only the first film. And wow, I hadn't written for a month and my hand became itchy due to that.

Kouki had always admired the Red Devil. Hot red with flashes of gold, cruising at a speed that put the others in the race to shame and always, always ending with a big, dramatic finish. Tower down the road, all sleek and slick, engines revving rhythmically and spin to a stop elegantly just after the line.   

The owner suited the ride to perfection. Crimson locks, slim lanky build, short stature but every inch screaming power and importance - Akashi Seijuro was the penultimate when it came to racing.

Nobody questioned his decisions. Nobody dared. He alone decided if someone was worthy enough to be part of the crew and his decision was final. Regardless of what anybody had to say, which they did only if they wanted to die.

It usually took years before anyone could come close to Seijuro. But for Kouki, it took him three seconds.

“Get in! Quick!”

*

The fuzz were a bitch ass surprise. The race had gone well enough before the sirens sounded. Everyone had fled, faster than a school of fish when a pebble slices the surface of the pond. Akashi’s car was noticeable even from a distance, but before he could get away with one of his men, they had run.

Cursing, he had shed his jacket and put on a forgotten, ragged hoodie to cover his strikingly noticeable hair and started walking casually; slouching his shoulders and with his hands jammed into his pockets. Much resembling a disgruntled, moody teenager to avoid attention.

He wasn’t very successful because the sirens were in fact, sounding closer and closer-

A car tore down the road, whizzing past the shitty police vehicles and screeched to a stop right next to him. For a second he was immobilized, this wasn’t any of the ones he recognised before the passenger door banged open and a brunet grinned to yell at him.

“Get in! Quick!”

Akashi wasted no time in jumping in and slapping on the seat belt as his saviour skilfully barrelled through the traffic lights, the blaring noises soon becoming a mere echo.

*

Akashi insisted on him coming to his house. Kouki needed to meet the rest of the crew, now that he was a part of it. He slammed open the door to find them all inside, either eating or dancing to some crap music or mostly arguing. But a quick headcount proved that all of his crew were there. Present and accounted for. 

He didn’t need to raise his voice. The moment he had opened the door, every action paused, except for the tone deaf metal thing called ‘music’ booming out from the sound system. _Why did no one listen to Beethoven these days?_

People were looking at him now, or more importantly on the person behind him, half hidden by his frame. He cleared his throat.

“Guys, meet Kouki. From now on, he is one of us. Be nice.” Akashi gave a weak glare at Momoi and Kise, who pouted and stuck their tongue out at him.

“Why does he get to be here? He looks so weak,” Daiki scoffed, pausing in the middle of his eating brawl with Kagami.

“Well. You gremlins left me. And he was the one kind enough to offer me a ride. For that, I am, in a way, indebted to him. Daiki, behave.” Seijuro looked at Kouki with a fond look before giving a stern glare at Aomine.

He threw his hands up in the air and went back to fighting with Kagami over the amount of meatballs in his spaghetti.

“Come on, I will show you the shed. I want to introduce you to Red Devil. She would like you, she is a good judge of character.” Seijuro led him by hand, never letting go. Kouki followed along, nodding and smiling all the way.

Furihata Kouki, an FBI agent sent undercover with a mission to imprison Akashi Seijuro, had made the team.

A police dog was now part of a wild band of coyotes.

Funny part was, he wanted to stay a part of the pack.


	54. Akafuri Kagakuro Midotaka

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "you're the only one who voted for my favourite movie on movie night so do you just want to watch it in my room?" AU  
> It was for just one pair but I hadn't written crack in a while so....

“For the last time Akashi, we are _not_ watching Little Mermaid again!”

“Taiga, I hardly see what’s wrong with my choi-”

“Cause of you, its my least favourite Disney movie! Hell I could probably sing all those songs by heart! And I don’t even want to!!”

“He is right, Akashi-kun. Why don’t we skip Disney this weekend and watch The Conjuring instead?”

“KUROKO YOU BASTARD, NO! We are watching Mulan.”

“Little Mermaid. If I have to listen to “I will make a man out of you” in my head the entire day, Taiga be assured of the consequences.“

“Conjuring.”

“Hey, what about Ocean’s Eleven? That sure looks like fun!”

“Where did that even come from? Takao-kun stay on topic.”

“Fools, there is no other way to decide this. Today’s lucky item for a Cancer is-“

“ALRIGHT I am putting my foot down, you guys are over here _way_ too often to get movie preferences _and_  you are eating my food. Mulan tonight. End of discussion.”

“….”

”….“

”….“

”….“

“Psst, Sei, we can watch yours on my phone in the meantime, if you would like? I think I have a headphone splitter here somewhere…”


	55. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HP AU (part of the same verse, I swear to god its not Hogwarts, no just no). I had sudden feels for the shadow puppet play in there and wanted to get this out as soon as I could. Not edited at all. I apologise for that.  
> Warnings for minor character death. Its fluffy throughout but yeah, well I couldn't resist the angst in between.  
> Warnings for frequent switching between flashbacks and the present, I kept it mild but its there. 
> 
> Sorry, haven't written AkaFuri in a while, got sucked into OtaYuri hell. I just wrote [a sizeable fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8872069) for that if you wanna check it out.

 

Flowers shoot from the ground, buds bursting with unique colours emerge valiantly from hiding and bloom out in the world, spending their lives in bliss and spreading their colourful joy to the world. Before ultimately, they grow tired, weak and wither and die.

Seasons change, spring to summer to autumn to winter. Time passes and life goes on.

And Akashi waits.

Impatiently, restlessly, pacing back and forth, he waits.

Helpless to change the way the cards were dealt. 

But he knows, that the flower he seeks, the flower he was waiting for, shall start to wither soon.

And he shall have his salvation then. The blessed relief he imagines he would experience then, is heady even to think of.

And makes the wait all the more torturous.

*

 

All powerful and omnipotent Akashi Seijuro stands stumped, humiliated and enraged when he sees three mere mortals alive and contemptuous at the failure of one of his traps.

Well.

_If its a game they want, a game they shall get._

He wonders how long this charade shall last.

Because death _always_ has the last laugh.

 

Three men of vastly different dispositions stand in front of him. Humanity's best, he supposed. Strong wizards they may be, but against the inevitable, they shall crumble.

He dismisses them all as pitiful humans reaching for heights beyond their capabilities. They lived recklessly and took risks impulsively.

Not one of them had been able to pique his interest.

 

But to humour them and himself a little from the dreary existence he led, he magnanimously relents.

Bowing dramatically, he concedes to their superior strength and smartness in application and offers them each a wish.

Wish each for their meaningless materialistic desire, he internally scoffs.

 

Accepting the challenge, the first wizard steps forward.

Brave, brash, impulsive yet talented. Overwhelmingly so. And ferociously competent, if the fire in the eyes are anything to go by.

But arrogance radiates from every pore on his insignificant body.

Akashi sighs.

To play a game this mundane, he needn't even make the effort.

 

"Wand, with which even the strongest wizard shall kneel before me. Strength beyond compare."

 

Akashi clicks his tongue in distaste. This was too easy.

He predicts a week or less before the soul would be his. And he does not look forward to it.

 

True to his word, five days later, Sakurai Ryou was brutally murdered, throat slit and blood splattered across the bed. Killed by his enemies, they said, the aftermath of his murdering spree while being drunk on the power of the wand.

Akashi feels nothing but disdain as he takes the darkened soul. To take a soul so corrupt, it is not even worth playing such an elaborate game.

*

 

Too much pain.

The second wizard had too much pain in his eyes for such a young age.

Heartbreak, he knows. Young love. Lost to disease.

He understands but doesn't have it in him to feel anything more than apathy. 

Death was inevitable, it was a duty. There wasn't any choice except to accept it and move on.

He beckons him forward with a slight nod.

 

"Bring her back. I want to bring back the one I love. Revive the dead and give meaning to my life again. That is my wish."

 

 _Fool_.

 

Humans never learned. They made mistakes again and again and still don't learn anything from it.

A soul once lost did not have place in the mortal realm. At least not in the same host it had previously.

But did the so called wizard who had been able to challenge him, get that?

 _No_.

Love blinded him. Tidal waves of grief had corrupted his mind of his senses and made him act desperately.

He shakes his head in disappointment and gives him a stone.

 

Momentary bliss, it offered him. Turning the stone thrice in his hand, the wizard was able to make his lover come back.

But she did not belong here. Pale and sickly and lost, her body knew that it had no place among the living.

 

It was less than a fortnight since then, that Ogiwara Shigehiro was found dead at the grave of his lover, a dagger in hand and a slash at his heart.

 

Akashi watches as the dimly lit soul meets its fated one in his realm.

Unity in death, poignant as that may be, still seemed superficial to him.

*

 

He had already concluded that this game had been a total waste of his time and effort that he barely glances at the last wizard who stands before him.

He had won, easily so.  And nothing had fazed him.

Foiled he may be, by their intelligent wizardry to survive his trap, but even with wishes - _absolute_ wishes -  at their disposal, they hadn't been able to outwit him for long.

Humans were never any interest, and this game had made that fact stark clear.

 

For the sake of duty, he turns to look at the last one in the eye.

The quiet, trembling one who shrinks more into himself when given attention.

 

_Weak._

 

_Pathetic._

 

This was humanity's best bet to defy him? Defy death?

An arrogant one, a foolish one and a coward?

He chuckled drily.   

He waits for the mortal to stutter his way through his pitiful desire, half hoping that he would wish for death and make this ordeal less tiring.

 

"I wish to leave here without being followed."

 

Akashi does a back take.

That's it?

No riches or anything but just......hiding? From him?

Did this mortal even understand how much power that boon vested on him? If only he exercised it well?

Irked, he shrugs it off.

 

A promise was a promise, no matter how ridiculous it was.

There had to be a hidden meaning beyond that wish. There simply had to be.

There better be.

Reluctantly intrigued despite himself, he cuts a piece of his robe and stretches it until it was big enough to easily hide three people under.

Draping it around the shoulders of the quivering man, he bids him goodbye, "Use it well."

Furihata Kouki nods shakily and bows. "Farewell."

 

Akashi observes him leave. And smirks a little.  

For once, in the entirety of his existence, he cannot predict when _this_ soul would become his.

This game was finally starting.

*

 

Excitement, as any other emotion, fades.

In its place, restless anticipation sits.

Months pass and still, his searches yield him nothing.

Not a whiff of the clever little brunet that had managed to escape his clutches.

How many years has it been since then?

Twenty? Thirty? Fifty?

He should die soon, yes? Even if he was no ordinary mortal, he still was human, yes?

 

He chews his lip and he waits.

Countless humans die during the time, either by nature or by ill will, trampled due to greed and revenge.

He performs his duty monotonously, apathy covering him like a shield.

Yet, his mind continues to plague him about the scampering tramp that had successfully outwitted the almighty.

Annoyed, slightly awed and thrumming with eagerness, he waits for the demise of his one true rival.

*

 

Furihata Kouki decides it's time.

He hosts a party for the entire village the night before he leaves. His loving family wishes him for the blessed life that he had.

At the crack of dawn, he carefully shuffles his way out of the house, his grandson tagging along with him.

A greying man stooping with age and a child of ten bounding beside him, walk from the house to the abandoned river bridge nearby.

The fated place where the game had begun, all those years ago.

And he, the enemy, had come to end it.

 

Reaching it, he thinks he should call out, but he doesn't have to.

Akashi materialises in front of him the moment his sets foot on the river bank.

 

"Kouki." He breathes. And it sends a delicious shiver down his spine.

 

Eager eyes search him head to toe, analysing and appraising.

He should have worn better clothes, he berates himself. Even though what he wore was the best he had.

This was a very important dat- _meeting_ after all.

Akashi stood, ageless and alluring, as always. He finally meets his eyes and smiles. Warmly.

Furihata wants to melt under the heat of the gaze.

 

He turns unwillingly to where his grandson was, trying to chase a stray, teasing butterfly whilst holding his grandfather's hand.

He folds the cloak and gives it to the boy, bending down to his level and looking at him affectionately.

"This is for you. Take this home and take good care of it. Its a precious gift from a dear friend, treasure it. Love it and cherish it. Keep it forever and pass it on to your grandson. Use it well."

The child holds the robe close and meets Furihata's eyes, curiosity and trust raging as a confused mix in his eyes. "I will. I promise."

Furihata kisses his forehead and says, "Run along home now, your mother will be worried."

The child nods, and gives him another look filled with meaning, yet knows he shouldn't voice them out. Hugging his grandfather one last time, he walks home.

Furihata watches him go, final goodbyes a prayer in his heart.

 

He takes a deep breath and turns to face Akashi.

They look at each other, like worthy adversaries on a battlefield.

Years of playing hide and seek, thwarting fate and dancing around each other comes to an end at this very moment.

Awe, annoyance, respect, and a thirsty need to know more about his nemesis, be with him more and carefully nurture the bud of friendship yet fan the flames of their everlasting rivalry - varied emotions stagger them with their intensity.

 

"Kouki." Akashi tests the name out on his tongue, wanting to say it endlessly. "You have kept me waiting too long."

 

Furihata felt weak listening to the crooning voice. But he doesn't falter. "And whose fault was that?"

 

"I could have found you if I wanted to, you know. I just thought you should have a fair chance at living."

 

"Ah. Then I should thank you for letting me live this long, yes?"

 

"That is correct. But a simple thanks would not cut it, you see. You _did_ abuse my generosity, after all."

 

"Oh? Pray tell me, what do you have in store for this frail old man, oh almighty death?"

 

"Old? What are you talking about?" Akashi extends his hand, and takes Furihata's in his. The touch sears into his skin, purely electric. Akashi feels things he never thought he would. Interlacing his fingers with his fated rival, he quips. "I don't see any old men here."

Wrinkled skin becomes taut, muscles corroded with age become thick and firm again and the human regains the youth he had lost to nature and time.

Furihata Kouki looks back at him, not a day older than the last time they met, countless years ago. 

He bursts out laughing.

 

"Ah, so you will take my soul and give me age? Now what, I am bound to you?"

 

Akashi smiles warmly, listening to the peal of infectious laughter.

 

"Well, yes. To put simply. Why, Kouki, I thought you liked fighting with me. Was I perhaps, wrong for all these years?"

 

Furihata beams brightly at him and answers cheekily. "Oh dear god, a forever with you. How boring it will be!"

He tilts his head back and rests a hand on his forehead, an overdramatic display of misery.

 

Akashi laughs out loud at that and yanks him close.  

 

Emotions dead, jaded through indifference and disillusionment come down shattering as he starts to feel.

Touching their foreheads together, and encircling him in his arms, he feels Kouki hug him just as tight.

 

And he feels alive.

 

For the first time.


	56. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Orenchi No Furo Jijou AU. If you haven't watched that, its fine. Its just a merman/human au.

There was a man in his bathtub.

No no.

That would be wrong.

There was a _merman_ in his bathtub.

And Akashi had come to accept that fact.

*

Cramped inside the tiny bathtub of the one bedroom apartment, long gorgeous tail of mesmerising red and gold scales gleaming under the glare of the bathroom light, folded slightly to fit, arms hugging his torso tightly, Furihata laughed maniacally, tears streaming down his face.

The sitcom playing on the small portable TV in front of him, safely away from the water, wasn’t even that funny.

Funny would be the monthly bills of gas and water that got mailed to Akashi. Who knew the upkeep of a clumsy merman would be this expensive? Especially on Akashi, who had just gotten the brilliant idea of making it on his own and not smooch off of his family till he finished college.

Funny would be allowing said stupidly forgetful merman to continue to use hot water and make himself get another part time job on top of an already taxing one.

Funny would be accommodating weirdly attractive merman’s weirder friends, the talented octopus Takao, the luminous jellyfish Himuro and the moody sea snail Mayuzumi and have them partying in his bathroom at godly hours.

Funny would be sharing the bathtub with the supposedly older merman, everyday since he started living with Akashi and not feel awkward at all about it.

Funny would be listening to the endless chatter of the sunny brunet, forcibly make him eat the vegetables and not just meat, watching his blindingly beautiful tail cast rainbows when the sunlight from the bathroom window flitter in, smile at him frolicking in the tub and have a warm feeling spread in his chest knowing Kouki was happy staying with him.

Funny would be starting the day with a “Good morning, Sei! Today they are showing a new scene on….“ and ending the day with a “Good night, Sei. Sweet dreams!“ and looking forward to seeing each other the whole time they were apart.

Funny would Akashi falling for a bewitching merman with honey irises and sunny smiles and cold slimy hugs that were starting to feel like home.


	57. Midotaka

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I put salt in your coffee when you were in the bathroom and you drank it all and that was hardcore want to go out sometime AU

This was a date, right? _Right_.

A dare date was still a date, yes? _YES._

Sure, Kuroko had put him up to it - the challenge of taking out his stuck up friend from another college, who in all fairness, looked like one of those badly stereotyped Korean drama actors with incredibly bad hair ( _seriously_ , what was up with _that?_ moss green?) and spoke like a straight-laced librarian - but they were sitting in one of those dainty chairs in one of those dainty cafés and ordering those dainty cakes.

So, _yes_. This was a date.

Trick was, to end it.

He had to get Midorima Shintarou to be so vexed with him that he would call it off. And Takao was known to be vexing. _Quite_ vexing, if his senior’s words were anything to go by. This job would have been straight up his alley.

Only, it was not.

“Shin-chan!! Let’s go for purikura!”

“Shin-chan, smile!!!!! Ahh, you look good when you are mad!!”

“Shin-chan!” “Shin-chan!” “Shin-chaaaan!!”

He tried, he really did. Takao pranked him more than anyone else he had met the first time. He tripped him, failed to grab the coffee and let it soak him, slipped some snow down his back, take embarrassing pictures and invaded personal space more than he chose to care.

Normal people like his friend, Furihata or Fukui would be laughing with him or thwack his head with the closest blunt object they could grab.

People like Midorima Shintarou, whose face screamed discipline and piano lessons and chess and all those quiet games where kids would be allowed to play out in the mud and had governesses for most of their lives, would plain _explode_.

But nope. Nothing seemed to faze Midorima Shintarou.

It was as if some superior power up there was testing him to see how far he would go to win the money he bet with Kuroko.

_Fine. Fucking fine you little blue twit. You win._

As a last ditch attempt, he pours a handful of salt in his date’s coffee and grumbles to himself. Honestly speaking, this date hadn’t been _all that bad_. He had had fun with the walking tree whose reactions he had genuinely found to be cute and made him more inclined to tease. Perhaps, if he were up to it, maybe they could get together some time after.

Midorima came back from the bathroom and settled in, shooting a curious look to the oddly reminiscent Takao. The usual chirpy raven was quiet as he looked out the window at the snow fall. The date was ending and maybe he had given up on his ridiculous antics, he mused, picking up his coffee.  

Takao’s eyes glided back just in time to catch Midorima choke a little before sending him a steely glare and down the entire cup till the last drop.

His jaw dropped. “Shin…chan….how? Oh my god. wow!!!” He clapped and chortled at the effort. Tears of laughter pricked his eyes. This was ridiculous. The whole date was ridiculous, And Midorima Shintarou was too cute to be true.

“No, seriously, Shin-chan, you could have left it, you know? I was just pissed. How? Why would you?” He wheezed.

Midorima cleared his throat, and shifted under the stare and pulled up the scarf to cover his chin as he answered. “I…have a friend who taunted me to do this. His exact words were, if I came out alive at the end of it, he shall buy me my lucky items for a month. And. Well.”

Oh.

_Of course_.

This _was_ too good to be true.

Takao quiets down, his gaze back to the falling snow starting to cover the window sills. He isn’t particularly interested when he asks. “Oh, someone you know?”

He hears a cough before Midorima forces it out. “A wily acquarius named Kuroko Tetsuya. We…don’t get along well…..”

The rest of the talk goes completely over his head as Takao freezes.

_That bastard._

Cogs turning in his head fast as if in the middle of a basketball game, he grabs Midorima’s hand and yanks him out of the café.

“Let’s make him _pay_.”


	58. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> akafuri + “I just got turned into an incubus or a succubus and i’m like the least smooth and most self-conscious person on the planet so i’m literally starving because i don’t know how to seduce people” AU

“If I said you have a beautiful body, would you hold it against me?”

Furihata choked, sputtered on his drink and nearly fell off the bar stool, drink in hand. Looks like his dry martini was going to have a tough time being enjoyed if the stranger next to him whipped out gross pick-up lines one after the other.

“Oh my god. How cheesy can you get?”

“Maybe get pizza and find out, back at my place?”

Furihata thumped on the table, snorting out laughs and wiping away the stray tears pricking his eyes. The redhead was drop dead gorgeous but _oh man_ , his flirting - if he could even call it that - could use a lesson or twenty. He was honestly confused as to whether they were actually pick up lines or just humor used to lower his guard. He hoped it was the latter, for his sake.

Shrugging on his coat, he placed the glass back on the counter and gave the tired bartender a nod. “Well, now if you will excuse me, it’s 2AM and I have stuff to do tomorrow.”

The redhead, Akashi was his name, followed him out, even so far as to hail the taxi for him. “And would that stuff be me?”

Furihata had a hard time deciding whether he wanted to kill him for making him crack a rib from all the laughter at his pathetic hit-ons or get his number for a proper date later. And thank the gods, he saved by the taxi stopping next to him.

Just when he was about to open the door, he was yanked so fast into the dark alley nearby and pushed up against the wall that he was sure he would have a whiplash. Before he could react, he felt a finger shushing his lips as Akashi moved in close to whisper in his ear.

“Now, if you would stay nice and quiet, maybe I won’t kill you tonight when I eat you.”

Furihata stayed frozen as he felt Akashi graze his lips where his neck met his collarbone. And before he could sink his teeth into the supposedly delicious flesh there, Furihata recovered enough to utter. “Aw, that’s too bad. You can’t eat your own kind.”

He had the godsend opportunity to giggle out loud at Akashi’s expressions which ranged from shock to frustration to grumbled hunger to calculative as if he was robbed of a sumptuous meal and was deciding on how best to win it back.

Sighing, Akashi threw his hands up in the air. “I came here to visit a friend and hadn’t eaten in more than a week. That must have dulled my senses from realising you were an incubus too.”

Biting his cheek, Furihata quipped. “If your seduction was anything along what you laid on me then I am appalled at how you have been able to sustain yourself all these years.”

Affronted, Akashi crossed his arms over his chest and pouted even more. “I am going to let that slide because I am hungry and bantering with you is not something I want to do on an empty stomach. Now, if you will excuse me, I have some flirting to do with someone who actually _does_ have good taste.“

“Aw, come on, dinner’s on me. I know a great little place. And oh, I do have good taste. It’s just that you suck.” Furihata cheerily led Akashi back into the street, holding his hand.

He couldn’t help but feel elated when Akashi squeezed his hand and walked beside him. Challenging him with a brow raised, he smirked. “Ohh, I shall take that as a compliment. When I make you moan that out later tonight.“ 


	59. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> akafuri + "Knight and day" au

“Let’s have sex!”

“…what?!”

“Yeah, yeah! You and I! Let’s have sex!!”

“….Kouki, did they slip you something while you were in custody?”

*

Furihata Kouki did not have a plan in life. 

But running and covering behind cars and shooting back at the thugs who were trying to kill them wasn’t exactly what he had in mind for his future. 

Gunshots were fired in rapid succession, showering them and nearly toppling the cars they hit and Furihata held onto the hand in his with a vice-like grip.

Akashi fired back, expertly dodging the bullets and aiming perfectly on his targets with just one hand and making sure Furihata was safe by his side throughout. 

“Kouki, are you okay?”

“WHAT?”

“ARE YOU OKAY?!”

“I’M FINE I’M FINE I CAN’T HEAR YOU OVER THE NOISE. WHY CAN’T THESE PEOPLE USE THE SILENCER?”

Wrong place, wrong time, wrong man to flirt with and that had cost Furihata his normalcy of life. Forging new identities, passports and papers,defying the jurisdictions of the FBI to infiltrate the various mafia gangs, learning how to refill and shoot on the job and nearly escaping by the skin of their teeth had become his new definition for normalcy. 

“When i give the signal, you go ballistic, ok? I will follow.”

“Ok, what’s the signal?”

“On the count of three. One. Two- Kouki! No!”

“I AM SORRY I PANICKED. Did I get anyone?”

“Run.”

Akashi hadn’t pulled him in. But as he spent more and more time with his new partner, albeit the longing looks and caressing casual touches, he definitely seemed to make him stay.

Furihata Kouki did not have a plan. For tomorrow or for the future. But with Akashi by his side, adrenaline rushing through his veins when they took down the bad guys, case after case, he felt he had a pretty good shot at it.  


	60. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Akashi summons a rare and powerful incubus. Only, accidentally.  
> Based on [this comic](http://cerberosthehellguard.tumblr.com/post/154324432746/japhers-things-i-think-about-at-night-incubi) I found floating around on Tumblr. I should not be allowed to read/watch anything. It gives me _ideas_.  
>  And I went a _bit_ overboard with the sappy drama but I think we all need to welcome this year with a good dose of overdone drama and sap.

_Mayuzumi was going to die_.

A _very_ explicitly gruesome death, Akashi predicted.

They were in college for god's sakes. Wasn't bullying supposed to stop with high school? Apparently not as the grey puffs of smoke grew bigger and bigger, engulfing the room with its force, enough to blur his eyes and make him difficult to breathe, throat constricting with every second that passed by. He had been thrown on the floor at the impact of the smoke, the suspicious book the cause of all this lying somewhere nearby and the room plunged in complete darkness even if it was only midday.

Akashi balanced himself on one elbow, covering his mouth with the other hand and coughed, trying hard to inhale something other than the pungent fumes and blinked rapidly to clear the tears pricking at his eyes when a strong scent of cinnamon, honeydew and chocolate washed over him.

The clouds of smoke began to dissipate slowly and a form appeared from within, looming over the fallen Akashi. Afternoon sunlight began to stream in from the windows again after the brief spell of blindness and the strange human-like form swished closer to him. With a lazy wave of its hand, the fumes evaporated, as if they were never there and the soft rays of the sun formed a mystical halo around it. 

Pitch black cloak resting on its shoulders that flitted to the floor like a long cape, lean sinewy body like a dancer's, long chestnut hair that wafted down to its slim waist, two tiny black horns protruding from beneath its messy bangs, glittering gold jewellery adorning its wrists, ears, neck and hips, pointy chin, pert nose, a smirk both mischievous and innocent at the same time and eyes glimmering like honey from pools of milk stared at Akashi as if _he_ was the prize that had been greedily coveted.

It looked like pure unadulterated _sin_.

The being crouched in front of him, inching in close and tilting its head in contemplation as intelligent eyes roved over Akashi slowly, taking all the time in the world. "Hello."

The smooth, cautious and soft, velvety voice matched its form, Akashi mused. It could make people melt under its spell and become putty in its hands, to be played around like chess pieces. It slid a hand over Akashi's arm, feeling the bunched muscles there and leisurely undid his tie with the other.

"Hmm. You are quite handsome, aren't you? I have never seen anyone with hair that colour, it looks good on you."

The spirit licked its lips, running a pierced tongue languidly over its sharp pointed teeth, eyes gleaming bright as they watched Akashi's every reaction, every jerk, every blink, every breath, unblinkingly.

 

_What had Mayuzumi got him into?_

 

"So, what will it be, human? It must have been quite a heavy thirst to have summoned _me_. Reveal to me, your deepest, darkest, filthiest fantasies and I, will fulfil them with this body of mine." It was almost straddling Akashi's hips and bending down to seductively whisper in his ear, elucidating every syllable. "I will make you feel like you have never felt before, I _promise_. After all, your kind's blood tastes the best when you have _absolutely_ succumbed to your desires."

Akashi noted dully that its fingers were starting to lazily undo his buttons with expert ease and that its hair smelt heavenly of chocolate through the frozen state of his mind at the words the spirit had crooned.

 

_Mayuzumi Chihiro was going to die a very painful death._

He was going to burn _all_  of his light novel collection right in front of his eyes before Akashi even got around to torturing him.

 

An _incubus? Really?_

He thought he had been dared to call upon a spirit of a dead person not a death sentence, for fuck's sake. Mayuzumi was going to _pay_. _Dearly_.  

 

He jolted to awareness when the demon - _demon!_ \- licked the shell of his ear, its piercing feeling like cool steel against the warm skin. Akashi shivered.  

Gently but firmly, he pried off the long fingers one by one as he sat up.The demon protested as Akashi started to redo his buttons and his belt. "Let's do this _now!!!_ "

Akashi cleared his throat. This was going to be difficult, to say the least. It was a dangerous demon, if the complexity of the spell was any indication - he had to explain carefully and hope it would see reason. "There....seems to be a problem. Pardon me...but I was simply testing to see if the spell worked and summoned you by mistake. I apologise for the inconvenience."

The demon stilled for a full minute before recovering, grabbing his hands in its and shifting to seat itself more comfortably on his thighs. "Oh that's okay! We can still play, though!"

Akashi sighed and shook his head delicately, not looking away. He gripped the hands in his and met its eyes levelly. Crimson against hazel. "Um.....I am not interested."

"What?!"

"I said, I am not interes-"

"AAARGH! I HEARD IT CLEARLY THE FIRST TIME!! You don't have to insult me! What do you mean you are not _interested_?? _Why_ would you dabble with the forces of darkness and successfully summon me, _ME_ " - pointing to itself as if they were of great importance that Akashi didn't understand the gravity of, the being lashed out - "if you don't want me to get into your pants?"

Akashi scratched his cheek, feeling sorry for both of them. They _had_ been tricked into this embarrassing situation, even if Akashi was at fault for falling for the dare. And going through with it impulsively, without being aware of the consequences. He _never_ did that. And the one time he had been goaded on to do, he was stuck with someone who could easily kill him with just a flick of their wrist, sitting atop his lap with arms crossed over their chest and glaring at him, scornfully.

"Well, I was challenged to do so because you were the hardest and the trickiest to call among the spirits but I was......conveniently uninformed as to what you were. I apologise deeply and-"

"This has  _got_ to be a joke. You can't be serious! Oh my god. Are you playing with me? Are you playing hard to get? Is that what this is? If so, I am more than okay with-"

"No no." Akashi put his hands on its shoulders, shaking them a little. He shook his head and took a deep breath. It was going to be so disillusioned. But there was no helping it. "Really. I don't want to have sex with you."

The demon looked like a child who had just been told Santa wasn't real. It was just two seconds away from bawling. Akashi had to think quick, he had brought this on himself, no matter how much he blamed Mayuzumi for getting him into this mess in the first place.

"But there are other things we can do." Hazel eyes sparkled at that. He himself felt his voice becoming chipper as he saw the gleam. "Such as.....watch TV, play basketball, go to the library?"

The demon's eyes widened as if positively _mortified_ at the suggestions and threw itself off of Akashi's arms and backed into the far wall, all the way across the room. Quivering hands draping its robe around itself, shivering slightly and cowering as if to hide itself, the being stuttered to voice its thoughts.

"Yo-yo-you can't be serious!! You are asking me, _ME_ , the one who refused to bed mortals - even nobles and _kings!_  - that didn't qualify my standards, for _platonic affection? ME??!!_ I will have you know you cretin, I rejected from using so many of your pathetic kind for blood simply because _I_ wasn't interested! It does _not_ happen the other way around! This simply is not _happening!!_ "

The demon screeched, rapidly gaining control from its momentary lapse and letting out steam at being insulted. It was understandably indignant about the whole mess and Akashi waited for it to finish its rightful rant. 

It calmed down to mutters and grumbles before stilling like a statue and slowly turned to face him, shock written all over its beautiful features and whispered, "Does this mean we have to do.... _those_ things? _"_  

 

_Things?_

 

"Cuddling up on a sofa, watching movies about cats? Disney? Cooking breakfast together? Spooning in bed? Staying up late to talk nonsense at unholy hours of the night? Massaging with clothes _on?!_  Scandalous non sexual acts of affection?? _ME?!!! Are you serious?!"_

"....I honestly hadn't thought of that but, yes. That....that does sound lovely."

The demon proceeded to blush furiously and sweat and tremble, eyes blown wide as the enormity of what it was expected to do, sunk in; holding its head with its hands as if an earth-shattering truth had been revealed.

Akashi tilted his head, regarding quietly. He could spend a few hours and study about ways to free the being from the uncomfortable situation he had put it in. "You...don't seem to be liking it. I could just-"

"No no! I mean ye-yes! I-I just need some time to emotionally prepare myself, ha ha!" It raised its hands as if in assurance that nothing seemed to be the problem, its disposition saying otherwise. "This is-I have-I have never done something like this before, so please give me a moment to come to terms with it...."

 

Akashi nodded and stood up, offering a hand to the demon. "You can stay with me, until you choose to leave. Please, don't force yourself to please me. And. Akashi Seijuro. Nice to meet you."

The demon peered up at him, from underneath those long eyelashes and blinked. Akashi felt himself smile reassuringly at it. It really was a gorgeous creature. It slowly moved to stretch its hand and reach out to his while standing up.

Funny, they were both the same height, Akashi noted. Interlacing the warm fingers slowly a smile started to bloom on its face, nearly blinding Akashi with its beauty. "Furihata Kouki. It's nice to meet you too, Seijuro."

*

 

Furihata couldn't believe his fate.

Even after three weeks of living with Akashi, who surprisingly cooked only with average expertise and had a strict sleeping regimen and other such funny quirks just like an old man instead of a twenty-year old, he couldn't believe it.

Reo had been so happy when he had been summoned. He was the pickiest of the lot. He was so finicky about who was calling him that he granted only an hour of two of his time before draining their life source, enough to last him a century or so. Reo was always mad at him for finishing so quickly and not enjoying the courting and not engaging himself with the human world more.

And now, this stunning redhead, who had been interesting enough to have successfully called upon him on the very first try, when bestowed with more than an hour of Furihata's time, had openly rejected him and all of his advances. _Him._

He was _this_ close to pulling out his hair.  

 

Wearing a bright orange oversized sweater, gripping a mug of hot chocolate in one and another arm wound around the human, watching some dumb movie from a sofa too small for the both of them, Furihata lamented at how things turned out to be. 

That's it. He was going to label this as foreplay. Foreplay without the sex. He _shall_ emerge victorious in draining the blood off this mortal. Soon. Furihata Kouki was nothing if not, _absolute_.

 

Akashi snuggled into his chest a bit more and curled his legs up onto the sofa. Furihata immediately reached forward to fix the blanket, so that it covered them both sufficiently. Smiling into Furihata's sweater and nodding off to sleep, Akashi mumbled. "For what it's worth, you are doing a great job, Kouki."

 

_This vile tempter!_

 

Akashi didn't play _fair,_ Furihata complained mentally. 

Heartwarming smiles and innocent sugary words all.

Sighing to himself, Furihata leaned back, tangling his legs with Akashi's underneath the blanket and planting a kiss atop the cherry red hair before taking a sip of the delicious brew, opting to watch the dumb movie.

Of all the lovers he had had in his existence, Akashi was by far the most riveting. And, honestly speaking, Furihata was in no hurry. Seduction after all, was a waiting game. He might as well make his stay pleasant, as long as it lasts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that’s all of the drabbles I had!! I was aiming for 60 chapters and I am glad it came out to be//swipes forehead// It would be like one solid hour of aus to read!! Would anyone be up for that?? I didn't want to drag this short drabble posting into the new year as well. 2016 was mainly me posting more than 20 of such things and clogging the tag ha ah. 
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading all the silliness in each chapter!! You guys are super fabulous!! I wouldn't have done this if it weren't for you!! Honestly!!! I never imagined I would get 400 kudos EVER in my life and thank you to each and every one of you for encouraging me and brightening my day//wipes tears  
> If in case, in the future, I get a crazy idea which is short/embarrassing then this is where it will be dumped.  
> On another news, I will be focusing on the longer, more detailed, slightly better drafts I have saved up for over a year//feeling excited  
> Hopefully this new year will be the year where I actually pump out quality fics ha ah//scratches cheek//weak laughs  
> Happpppppyyyyyy New Year everybody and may this year be better than the last!!//showers you all with confetti
> 
> For any rants/chat you can reach me faster on [my tumblr](http://cerberosthehellguard.tumblr.com/)


	61. Murahimu

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MuraHimu + "Different Schools" AU

_“Unavailable?_ ”

The store clerk trembled. The huge purple-haired kid loomed over her, his expression promising wrath. “I was only _two minutes_ late.”

“Sorry! I am so sorry, Sir! They sold out immediately!” She squeaked, profusely sweating, inching towards the backdoor with every intention of running away from the giant that was crowding her counter.

“You can have mine, if you like.”

The kid turned towards the voice, frowning with suspicion when Tatsuya held out a bag full of the sold out Matcha flavoured mochi. That was enough leeway for the poor clerk to scramble to the back room.

Tatsuya noticed him warring between wanting the snacks and asking from a stranger. He looked to and fro, longingly at the bag and eyeing Tatsuya with warranted wariness.

It was cute to watch.

Tatsuya smiled easily, “Here. I bought them for my brother but he bailed out on me today. You can have them.” He jiggled the bag for emphasis.

A piercing glower was all he got as an answer. The giant walked up to him and looked down on him. His gaze was measuring and lazy, as if he had all the time in world. The effect was lost when it lingered hungrily on the snacks. “Midochin told me not to accept sweets from strangers.”

“Fine by me.” Tatsuya smiled wider and held out his free hand. “Himuro Tatsuya. Nice to meet you.”

Again with the never ending stare. Did the guy ever blink?

Shoulders sagged slightly and he shook his hand. Once. “Murasakibara Atsushi.”

Tatsuya’s laughed lightly. “Hello, Atsushi. Here, you can have this now that we are not strangers anymore. Right?” He cocked his eyebrow and challenged him, it didn’t matter that he had to crane his neck up but he wasn’t about to give away the upper hand.

“I guess.” Atsushi sighed, his hand moving for the bag.

Tatsuya pulled it out of his reach, “Tsk tsk, Atsushi. Where are your manners?”

The glare was back. “Thanks.” It might as well have been a ‘fuck you’ with the tone he used but Tatsuya wouldn’t nit-pick. He snatched the bag and left the place without a backward glance.

Tatsuya wondered if he would remember him if they ever met again. 

Probably not. 

*

“I won’t defend Murochin.”

“What?” “Why?” “What’s the matter with you?” The Yosen team bombarded Atsushi but he held on.

Araki sighed and shook her head and addressed her team. “It’s no use fighting with him. Stopping Seirin from scoring is our main goal.” She whirled towards where Atsushi sat, slumping on the bench. “You better stop the others just to make up for the slack you are cutting for your crush.”

“He is not my crush.” Atsushi mumbled and got up.

 

 

“What is the meaning of this?” Tatsuya pinned him with his eyes, his expression thunderous. It didn’t matter if Murasakibara was huge enough to crush him, at that moment Tatsuya could have eviscerated him if he wanted. His voice was pure velvet, barely a whisper and borderline venomous. “Why would you let me alone pass through your guard?“ 

Murasakibara looked away and shrugged. The match was at halftime and the point gap was decreasing. Players were to leave for the lockers but stayed, watching the commotion in the middle of the court.

Tatsuya’s face cleared as realisation dawned. He swore softly. “Are you kidding me right now? This is your way of _thanks?_ ” He spat out the last word. “Fuck off!”

Murasakibara snapped to him. Tatsuya held up his hand, his eyes blazing with unbridled rage. “Come at me like you want to kill me, Atsushi. Or….” He backed away, looking Atsushi up and down and smirked, “Is it possible that you don’t mind losing this time?”

It worked.

Tatsuya did not get a chance to score again for the rest of the match.

*

Tatsuya jogged to him. “Good match, Atsushi.” His voice was gentle, back to the way it had been in that tiny combini all those months ago.

Murasakibara had his back facing him, bag hiked up on his hunched shoulder and ready to flee. “You still won.”

“Oh I know. But it was also fun, right?” Tatsuya waved airily and stepped up to stand before him. Atsushi’s expressions were the cutest. And he was correct. Atsushi was pouting.

His chin trembled slightly and his eyes, sharp and glittering with unshed tears as they refused to meet his gaze. Tatsuya grinned. “There is a macaron sale in that new shop in Ginza this weekend. You want to come?”

Murasakibara walked away, but not before shooting a glare one last time at Tatsuya.

Tatsuya took that as a yes. “Ok! I will see you Saturday evening!”

*

“You came!” Tatsuya’s smile could have outshined the sun in its brilliance. His hair was properly fluffed and styled for a casual carefree look, he had dressed meticulously after spending more than a day choosing and shopping, and had checked the time thrice when he reached the place. There was only a slight chance of Atsushi bailing but he had managed to subdue that uncertainty.

And he was right.

“I like macarons.” Atsushi was uncomfortable, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Tatsuya had to quell the urge to run his hands through that fine mop of hair. It looked so soft. He looked as though he had tried to talk himself out of not going, but failed. He obviously had put in effort into dressing as well.

Tatsuya practically glowed with the silent compliment when he noticed Atsushi blushing. “Sure. Let’s go.”

They walked together, matching their steps. Slowly, in no rush.

The sale be damned.

Tatsuya knew if he retold the story of them getting together in the future he would always refer this as their first date.

And judging by those sidelong glances he received, he didn’t think Atsushi would disagree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I know I said I would mark this complete and focus on other bigger stuff, but that stuff takes time and patience which is something I cannot give all the time.  
> I am keeping this drabble collection _only_ as a distraction, wherein I will post when I am stuck with my WIPs. Which hopefully, wont be frequent because I badly want to share longer works with you all.
> 
> Oh and I am very much alive and writing. Just in case, anyone needed to know.  
> Also the next chapter of Panic! at the hook-up will be posted soon! Much excite!


	62. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> akafuri + "hangover" AU

There was a rule in the Furihata-Akashi apartment.

There was a rule well and clearly established through trial and error and Akashi fucking _broke_ it.

_Do not drink when the other was drunk._

How hard was it to follow?

Furihata cursed colourfully at the pain booming in his head like a marching band. Akashi was sleeping next to him. Equally wasted by the looks of it and yet managing to steal all of his blankets. The _bastard_.

He rubbed his face, forcing his eyes to open by sheer willpower and groped for the glass of water that _should_ _be there_ on the dresser. But no. It wasn’t. Not today. Of course not. The great Akashi-sama did not fucking keep water on the dresser for his wasted roommate.   

He cursed again. And kicked Akashi off the bed.

Akashi yelped, grappled the sheets to sit up on the floor and yelled, “What the fuck was _that_ for?”

Big Mistake.

They both winced loud, holding their heads and covering their ears.

Furihata hissed, “I lost my job, you ass. _You_ were the one who broke the rule.”

Akashi pulled his face off the sheets to stare at him, aghast, “ _I got dumped!_ ”

Another bout of hissing ensued.

“Kouki.” The voice was muffled against the sheets, Akashi still sitting on the floor. “Can I come to bed now?”

Furihata pushed his face into his pillow, piling the blankets on himself before Akashi stole them again. He whispered hoarsely. “Get us water first.”

*

Five hours, two bottles of water and about four mugs of coffee later, Akashi spoke up. “You hated that job anyway.” An olive branch was extended.

Furihata commiserated, “And your date was such a jerk. Good thing I don’t have to see his face anymore.” Hence, peace reigned in the small two bedroom flat.

Akashi drifted closer, resting his back on the pillows and pulled Furihata into his arms. Furihata sighed, shuffled the blankets keeping an eye on the space Akashi took from his side and returned his hug. Burying their faces in each other’s necks, they held on to the weak embrace. Deeply repressed feelings threatened to erupt, words and promises on the tips of their tongues, held back forcibly. _I am not what you deserve. You deserve so much more. Yet I want only you. Above all else._

They still hadn’t moved out of bed.

And neither had any inclination to.


	63. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just answered a bunch of akafuri drabbles and I didn't want them to get buried under the tumblr reblogs and AO3 is like my personal portfolio of written stuff so I would be posting them here. I have written about twelve of them and would be post one a day.
> 
> akafuri + "Golden Secret" - which I thought would be sexuality in this case. I assumed.

 

Akashi is gay. 

Has been since the day he saw Nijimura in the changing rooms back in Teiko in their first year. His ears were ringing and the blood in his brain had drained and all he could think was if he looked as shocked as he had felt. 

Kise had helped him through things back then. 

It didn’t come as a surprise when his entire team turned out to be not straight.

Mayuzumi had been another mistake. 

He didn’t know what was to be told about his tastes if he wanted to get on with a guy who was practically invisible and also one of the most insufferable beings on earth. And he has endured _Aomine_ for three years. 

But the best or the worst, in another view, mistake was when he fell for one Furihata Kouki. 

Captain. Loved by all. Silent. Reassuring. 

And he didn’t even know if Furihata was gay. 

He pined. 

Akashi Seijuro, handsome devil who could charm with just one look, pined for the affections of one straight man. Who wouldn’t talk to him unless he trash talked him on the basketball court. 

The handshakes in the matches fueled his quality time with his right hand for countless nights. 

 

Kuroko Tetsuya decided enough was enough. 

He casually let slip the magic words - “Kagami-kun, did you know Kiyoshi Senpai asked about Furihata? It has been a while since they broke up, right? Would they be getting back together soon?” -within hearing distance of one mooning, inwardly moping, Akashi Seijuro who was holding his hand, remembering the warm handshake exchanged just a few minutes before. 

Akashi stands rooted to the spot before he runs. 

Preferably towards the locker rooms, Kuroko thinks. 

Preferably occupying it for a long time. 


	64. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Akafuri + evolution.

Humans evolve. 

That was certain. Darwin said so. 

Akashi knew that. He didn’t think it would be applied to his and Furihata’s life as well. 

First came the long heated glances. When all hope seemed naught and impossible. Unattainable. 

Then came the fiery confessions and the groping in the bathroom stalls and kisses that felt like devouring each other. They couldn’t keep their hands off of each other long enough to finish a full course meal. With the long distance of their schools and the paltry they could spare every month, no one could deny them the heat of their attraction. 

That didn’t stop people from staying in the same room as them. 

Then came the exploration. The knowing your partner’s body like the back of your hand thing where you spend a good part of every available weekend worshiping every inch of skin of your partner. 

The college that they both fought hard to get into paid off well. He looks back to the dorm days when they miss that single terribly lumpy bed and the countless hours spent on it.

Adult life brought with it comfort. Days after college were a blur of activity when they had to find jobs and settle into them and when they came back home, all they wanted to do was curl up in front of the TV, hands interlinked and socks not toed off and buttons of their stuffy shirts pinching their chests. 

It wasn’t until they hit their thirties that they settled into a relaxing, sex only three nights a week, post its everywhere and all time availability of cuddling on the couch. 

The couch still is with them. They both have sentimental reasons. Usefulness be damned. 

And finally, their love bloomed into acceptance. 

A hand outstretched will always be met with another. A shared glance across the room conveyed the ten thousand meanings it held. Every kiss and every touch and every sigh that shouted I love yous. 

A promise. A forever. Two partners who evolved into more. 


	65. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> akafuri + "morphine"

“This is it Kouki. This is the end.”

“Please don’t.”

“No no. This is how I am going to die. Hold your breath. Count to ten.”

“ _Are you seriously quoting Skyfall right now?_ ”

“It is a perfectly good song and I would like it if you don’t interrupt me. I am already dying here.”

“For the last time, Seijuro, nobody dies from a-”

“One in 700,000 people die from a sinus surgery, Kouki!”

“I swear to _go_ -do you even realise that 699,999 people _don’t_ die?”

“You are such a glass half full guy, my Kouki. I am going to miss that.”

“Aaaargh. I don't even know why I try.”

“I love you, Kouki. And I promise I will wait for you in the afterlife.”

“Hello, Anybody in there? Can someone please give this idiot something to shut him up? Please, I am begging you.”

“He has had morphine, he shouldn’t be able to feel anything. Furihata-san would you step outside? This shouldn’t take more than half hour.”

 

Furihata waits outside the theater. Drama queen Akashi. Belting Adele out whenever he thought appropriate. After spending ten - _Has it been ten? Really? Time flies._ \- years with him, Furihata should have expected better. 

But, he supposes, that’s part of his husband’s charm.


	66. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Akafuri + "guardian"  
> I went with political/corporate level guardianship rather than the usual bodyguard/nanny type.

They didn’t need to squander around spoiling for fights when they knew they would protect each other when the time came. 

Furihata fights when he knows what he is standing up against. Bullying or bureaucracy. High school or Workplace.

Akashi fights for tenders and mergers and hostile takeovers that have made more than a few enemies for him. 

They have each other’s backs. Ever since they got together.

Maybe even before. 

“Akashi with this proposal you are going to set fire to all the seats in the boardroom that those geezers have cushioned their stuck up asses on for god knows how long.”

“Let them. Father supports, even though he will be losing political power. And-” Akashi takes Kouki’s hand and kisses it lightly “-I have you to take care of the fall out right?”

Furihata sighs. His team of insiders and diplomats have sworn their allegiance and loyalty to Akashi before joining. Not out of obligation too. There have been too many drastic changes in the corporate world that Akashi was dabbling with. With this new development, it was going to get bloody. They have their work cut out - from personal information to insider details to pressure points and calculating the exact amount of bribe that will tilt them over - it was nerve racking, nail biting and sleepless nights for days to come. 

That is not even close to the amount of potential death threats Akashi would receive. And the death threats that will come to Furihata and his team for being “Akashi’s dogs”.

Akashi knows this. Furihata knows this. 

Furihata presses his forehead against Akashi’s. “Only if you plan to make it up to me.” Akashi laughs and kisses him into the sofa. 

They remain each other’s guardians. Out of respect. Of love.


	67. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> akafuri + "a work of art"
> 
> This is not my usual style of writing but somehow this happened//shrugs//

Their life is a work of art. Colours bursting and melding and burning.

When they fight they see red. 

When they make up they see pink.  

When they sleep it turns blue. 

When they go out on dates its green. 

Furihata was a bundle of energy. Akashi the calm strength of a mountain. 

They clash, they bang, they dance and they fuse. 

Its colours, vivid and glorious that makes and breaks and patches their lives back together. Countless times. Tirelessly. 

Its abstract, their life is. 

And it makes a different new meaning every time they look at it. 

But they wouldn’t give it up for anything else. 


	68. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double update today!
> 
> akafuri + "Sehnsucht" [Meaning: Wistful longing, yearning]

Akashi feels the tears prick his eyes and forces them back. An Akashi never cries. Not even in the face of his unrequited love falling clearly for someone who is not him. 

He straightens his shoulders, dusts off lint, smooths his face into the bland expression and strides away from Furihata. 

Kawahara should be killed. Immediately. 

There are times when Furihata thinks why he has such friends. 

Its break time and the coffee maker is taking its slow time dredging up the spill that should not be called coffee and chatting about Kawahara’s vibrant sex life when Akashi had walked in. 

“I am just saying man, she was -oh my god” He flails, hand to heart. The bastard. “So what about you, Furi? What happened to that girl you were seeing?”

Furihata, busy as he was staring as discreetly as possible at Akashi texting away on his phone, stutters and blushes and thanks the gods that he doesn’t spill his shirt. “What? How-? How did you know about her?”

Akashi looks up at that. In fact, everyone looked up at that. Furihata berates his shrill squeak. 

And watches Akashi stride away. 

Kawahara is oblivious. Brushes it off and starts on another story of his sexcapades. 

But Furihata is busy waiting for his heart to stop yearning for the man who wouldn’t even look at him. 


	69. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck it. That last update made me sad and my weekend was pretty great so you guys don't need this sad thing. Triple update today. Imma pick a humour one I guess. 
> 
> akafuri + "Prussian Blue"

“For the last time, Seijuro, this is the living room. I cant have it-”

“Kouki this is a reasonable choice. Blue is a colour that calms people. It is universally proven-”

“I dont care what the universe has to say, our living room is not going to be like living under the sea!”

“Its hardly the whole room and its hardly resembling the sea. Its just one wall, Kouki.”

“One wall too many.”

They face each other off. Crossed arms and feet apart. 

The paint sales manager stand a few feet away and shivers. One wrong move against one of the most powerful couple in Japan and his small business would be razed without any trace. His grandfather would kill him in the afterlife if he found the business he had started so carefully in his teens, tanked because of his inept grandson. 

He whimpers. 

Furihata relaxes just one muscle. Akashi grins. The troll. 

“What. Blue.”

Akashi manfully hides his smirk as he points out to the can of brilliant prussian blue. The other three walls would be white. One alone would be blue and it would set off the tone of furniture they would buy for the living room. He had already set his eyes on a wonderfully spacious chaise lounge that would go perfectly with this wall. 

Furihata considers. He had seen the chaise lounge. 

And he knows the look Akashi gives him. 

The heated we are going to christen the chaise lounge the moment the movers put it and we going to make it hit the goddamn wall repeatedly look. 

It was a nice look on him. 

Furihata nods. Once.

The sales man lives to see another day. His grandfather rests in peace.


	70. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today is an important day for me for personal reasons so, I will try putting more fluff up on here.
> 
> Akafuri + "Geborgenheit" [meaning: security. safety and comfort]

Akashi Seijuro has been running all his life. 

He was five when he was given a ledger book to record expenses. That was his first toy from his father. 

He was ten when his mother died. He got extra language lessons and etiquette training lessons the next day. 

He was thirteen when he captained his middle school. His father rewarded him with the first campaign in the Tokyo Division of Akashi Group. 

He was seventeen when he lobbied ministers for the first time. His father’s increasing political ambitions and lesser care of company welfare burdened the boy. The camel’s back was getting heavier with time. 

He was twenty when his father died. Tragically, they had said. Heart failure, they had said. Akashi comes to work the next day as usual. 

Agreements are met. Negotiations are made. Mergers happen. Employees trust him. The board places faith in him to steer the company the way his father had. When he didn’t start thirsting for power. 

It is when he is twenty five and sitting at the reception of Kagami and Kuroko, he wonders where the time went. The happy couple need no money, no power, no superfluous upper crust thirst and greed. They seems enraptured in their own world. A world of content smiles and satisfied sighs and comfort. A world not within his reach. A world that never was, he realises.

_What am I when I cant find what they have found_. That is the question he asks that day. It frightens him that he knows no answer. 

He sees a familiar face in the crowd that day. Furihata Kouki. The same guy who works for him is at the wedding. He belatedly realises that Kuroko and he were teammates in high school. The polite smile and inane conversation through dinner is what makes him not break apart right then and there. His insecurities have no chance to win against the Akashi mask of confidence and poise. 

It is little by little, day by day that the tentative friendship starts. Nods and smiles turn to actual conversations. Late night working turn to take out dinners. Few minutes of ecstasy on the rug under their desks to stave off the frustration. The weekends of long, languid exploration of their bodies. 

The toothbrush in the bathroom. The clothes that make their way to their closets. The books that get left in each other’s houses. 

Eventually finding their own place in a new house just for themselves. 

Akashi Seijuro is twenty seven when he asks Furihata Kouki to move in. 

Its over a cup of hot chocolate, a shared blanket, huddled mass on a lumpy couch while the rain assaults the window. 

Because Furihata Kouki is his sanctuary.

A place of peace where he can stand still and breathe. And live.

And Akashi is twenty seven when he realises that. 

 


	71. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> akafuri + "Backpfeifengesicht" [meaning - a person who needs to be slapped]
> 
> this was possibly the most fun of them all for me to write.

Furihata Kouki was a patient, understanding man. 

He wouldn’t have made the Best Captain of the Seirin Basketball Team otherwise. He wouldn’t have selected a teaching course otherwise. He wouldn’t be a part time nanny to an - annoying, irritating, incorrigible - eight year old otherwise. 

But there are some times when the limits break. 

When the vein on his forehead begins to throb and his eye twitches and his smile freezes. 

When he desperately wants to slap the person who is the culprit of his current mood here. 

When that person is Akashi. 

“Greetings Furihata-san. May I have the honour of telling you how beautiful you look today?“ A bouquet of flowers is pushed into his face.

Furihata wears a smock with paints and assorted gravy splattered all over it. His hair is a mess and he is wearing a shirt that hasn’t been washed in four days.

Beautiful, my ass.

He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Akashi-san, pray tell me, what is the purpose of this visit?”

Akashi stops the eyeing him up and down with every intention of undressing him and licking every inch he reveals and looks up to meet Furihata’s eyes. “Why, I just came to visit my godson. Kuroko worries.”

Furihata knows Kuroko is the last person who would worry. Since he was the one who was too happy to hoist his troublemaking kid to Furihata to get some alone time with Kagami. Much needed alone time.

  
“Mhm. And I suppose that would warrant you coming all the way over from Kyoto just to see the welfare of your godson.” Furihata regards him evenly. Akashi nods. Furihata continues. “Though the supposed concern did not show up when you missed your godson’s birthday party last month.”

Akashi flushes. Furihata smirks inwardly.

Corporate giant Akashi Seijuro stands awkwardly in front of Furihata, the man he is shamelessly flirting with not an ounce of tact, but with all the will to push him against the wall and kiss endlessly.

The smock is distracting Akashi. Furihata looks good enough to eat. No man should be that delectable in baby blue smocks. Its just not healthy. For Akashi’s heart.

Furihata sighs loudly. This is the fourteenth time Akashi had come over while he was playing nanny. And this is the sixty eighth time he had looked at Furihata’s mouth like he wanted to devour it.

He half smiles. Akashi follows that movement raptly.

“If you are going to gawk all the time, I suppose dinner is out of question.”

Akashi gasps and brightens and purrs like a satisfied cat.

His eyes gleam with promised heat.

Furihata shivers under the heavy gaze.

It has been a long time since an attractive man had pushed him up against the wall and taken him.


	72. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EOF asked me for any kind of fluff and cuddles..........so I went with Hair Porn. It doesn't make sense, I know. Don't judge me.

Akashi’s hair looks soft. 

That is Furihata’s first and foremost thought when he sees Akashi at Kuroko’s birthday party. Fainting aside. 

It is cherry red that almost melds into magenta when the light hits it right and it is darker at the roots. Its slightly darker at the nape.

The nape. Furihata fixates on the nape. The few hairs there almost upturn under the cool of the AC. Or under the intensity of his gaze. Furihata doesn’t know. He hopes Akashi doesn’t notice the stare. It is rude to stare. But that doesn’t make him stop. 

Furihata wants to comb it. Wants to put his hands in it and bury them in the silky softness. Rub the scalp in relaxing circular motions and watch Akashi purr like a kitten. Bury his face in it and smell Akashi’s shampoo. He guesses it to be strawberry. He wants to spend hours just pushing his hands in that hair and scraping the scalp as he plunders Akashi’s red full lips. 

He wants to hold that hair with both hands and pull Akashi into a kiss when Akashi thrusts inside him, swallowing their moans and slamming the bed into the wall. 

Furihata flushes at his imagination. 

Akashi glances at him, ending the conversation with Murasakibara. 

One look is all it takes. 

_He knows._  

He abruptly leaves the room to take sanctuary in the airy balcony in Kagami’s apartment. 

“Furihata-kun, are you okay?”

Frozen, Furihata barely manages to nod as Akashi stands too close next to him. 

Akashi sighs. “We seem to have started on the wrong foot.” He gazes evenly at Furihata for a long unspoken moment before, “Would it be okay to start over? Hello, I am Akashi Seijuro.” He extends a hand. A well manicured hand with calluses just like his. 

Furihata stumbles out of his shock and shakes it. “And I am Furihata Kouki.”

Akashi beams at him. Softly. Like moonshine. Furihata berates his prose. And hesitantly returns that smile. And looks at Akashi’s hair. Wistfully. 

It is just shy of four months of their relationship when Furihata finds himself siting in their couch, reading for finals and having one hand buried deep in Akashi’s hair. 

It is as soft as it looked. He had spent innumerable hours testing that theory.

it is as sensitive as it looked. Akashi loves it when Furihata pulls it when they kiss. 

It is immensely satisfying to stroke it endlessly when he is studying. Gives something to do for his idle hand and Akashi never finds fault with that habit. Akashi is all for anything involving Furihata’s hands all over him. Anytime. Anyday. 

And it always smells of strawberry. 


	73. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Akafuri + monster  
> I don't like this one much// discards away//

His mother would comfort him when he thinks there are monsters under his bed. He would run up to their parents bedroom and pat her side and cuddle against her warm, safe body and listen to her cooing words until sleep whisks him away. 

He is ten when he starts to weep himself to sleep. And waits for the monsters to take him away just like they took his mother. 

_“You think you can defeat me?”  
_

_“You are all beneath me.”  
_

_“Your head is held too high.”  
_

_“Kneel to my glorious form.”  
_

_“I will not stop stepping on your throats until you stop breathing.”_

There are no monsters under his bed anymore. Akashi is sixteen when he realises he is the monster he once was afraid of.

It stuns him. 

It takes him days, months, years to chain the monster inside from clawing back up again. He owes that to his friends. To his teammates. To his mother. 

Furihata was a happy accident. Same college. Different majors. Same dorms. More company than he had with anyone in school.

Its good to talk with someone who doesn’t know what you went through. What you have chained in you. What makes you wake up in cold sweat, screaming in the middle of the night. 

It is great when Furihata understands, offers to help and holds him through those nightmares. 

Akashi thinks he has a monster inside him. A burning, churning live volcano that would erupt with the surety of a time bomb. 

Furihata with his gentle disposition and sunny smiles, puts the monster to rest. 


	74. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Akafuri + "yellow light"  
> By far, this was the fluffiest I have scribbled I think.

“Seijuro, would you mind waiting for a bit? I think I left my umbrella in the restaurant. I will be right back!” Furihata doesn’t wait for a reply and rushes off. Akashi watches him till he turns the bend before he looks up at the sky. 

The usual clear night sky looked ominous today. Black clouds hung like cloaks, allowing no glimpse of a star anywhere. There might even be a flash of lightning in the far east. 

Akashi hopes Furihata doesn’t take too long. He would like them both to get home dry. He walks to the nearest lamppost and stands underneath it. 

He recalls their first night out after becoming an official couple to have started the same way. 

Two college sophomores, pitching their secret stash funds to go for something marginally better than a dingy hole in the wall ramen shop. Walking back to their dorm because they couldn’t afford a taxi. 

Akashi had taken the dash of courage to grab Furihata’s hand that day morning. Interlinking fingers and palm to palm, they had started walking back from the restaurant. 

A huge flash of lightning striking the neighbourhood and the inevitable boom of thunder had followed. 

They had squeezed their hands to assure each other subconsciously. 

“It will be fine, Kouki. We are close.”

“Yes. I know. I just…..” Furihata tenses. His shoulders are tight and he was worrying his lip. 

Akashi thinks quickly. 

There is a lamppost nearby that blanches yellow light on the ground. Pulling Furihata under it, under the warm circle untouched by the threatening darkness of the night, Akashi holds Furihata close. 

Furihata wraps his arms around him and buries his face in Akashi’s neck. 

For all the times they had imagined how their first kiss would go, they didn’t think it would happen under the yellow light, tasting of moderately cheap greasy food with thunder and lightning dancing around them. 

It was wet, sloppy, inept and perfect as far as first kisses were supposed to go. 

 

Akashi smiles thinking of the innocence of the moment. 

“What are you smiling at?” Furihata- no, Akashi Kouki - stands in front of him, holding the umbrella and smelling of soap and sweat and wedding band hanging on his skinny ring finger. 

Akashi smiles wider. “Lamppost, Kouki.”

Kouki looks perplexed for a second and looks up at the weather, the yellow light and the warm smile Akashi gives him. “Oh.”

His eyes glaze over at the memory thirty years ago. Still fresh in their minds. 

Akashi pulls him by his scarf. “Yes. _Oh_.”

Kouki winds his arms around Akashi’s neck and presses his forehead against his. “This setting-” He gestures with his chin to the thunder crackling and the lightning whipping the clouds in the distance and the soft yellow light covering them like a bubble, “-calls for an anniversary of sorts, don’t you think?”

Akashi hums, agreeing, “Of course. What do you plan to do to commemorate this memorable event?”

Kouki pulls back just enough to graze his lips against Akashi’s barely touching them. Their breaths mingling. “I was thinking a recap of the events would be in order.”

Akashi breathes, “Good thinking,” before he swoops down to capture those lips with the same intensity as thirty years ago.


	75. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Akafuri + "one night in Paris"
> 
> This.....kinda got away ha h a I didn't expect that I would end up writing angst for this prompt//shrugs//

Akashi is due for London tomorrow.

Akashi Seijuro is due to arrive at London tomorrow and go straight to church and get married to the girl his father had politically sold him off to.

Akashi Seijuro is a pawn just like any other rich kid who is used by his family for strengthening ties and power by marriage.

Akashi Seijuro has been since birth doomed to suffer a loveless marriage.

But Akashi Seijuro stays in Paris tonight and eats dinner with Furihata Kouki.

Walks under the moonlight, huddling in coats and scarves and casting heated glances between them, Akashi Seijuro enjoys the company his heart craves for.

One night of life.

One night in his life, he actually lives.

Surrounded by the arms of the brunet whom he gives his heart to and gets in return.

Knowing there is no future for them.

He chooses to live today and die everyday for the rest of his life.


	76. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Akafuri + stardust  
> ahhhhhhh finally! got back on the fluff wagon!  
> Enjoy the double update!!

Furihata’s eyes were a whole new world in and of itself.

They shined like brightest stars in a constellation when he sees something he adores. Usually trains and Akashi. Trains have won till now. Akashi doesn’t want to think too much about it.

They glitter like molten honey when he looks at Akashi, that heated gaze sending shivers straight down his spine. Delicious shivers that make him want to push Furihata against the wall and kiss him senseless.

Akashi spends hours trying to note everything about Furihata. What makes him, him. He sees no end purpose for his quest but its entertaining nonetheless.

He ends up staring at Furihata endlessly.

Which brings out a whole new set of reactions in Furihata. Duly categorised, of course.

Akashi stares in awe of this person who is now his closest, most intimate, human as can be. A soulmate, if he may be dared to call that. He wouldn’t voice it out loud. It still rankles him that Furihata chose him as boyfriend all those years ago.

It is their fourteen years in wedded bliss today and yet Akashi looks at Furihata the same way he has looked at him when Akashi confessed to him.

Disbelieving. Surreal.

Magic that will consume him, body, mind, heart and soul.

Like stardust.


	77. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Akafuri + "i see you"  
> LOL I had super fun writing this! I had a whole other thing planned but then, scrapped all that and wrote this garbage instead ha ha

There are a thousand people on the street on Christmas day. 

“Hello! Can you hear me? Akashi, would you-I mean, where are you?”

There are a thousand people standing in the inside atrium of the mall where Furihata does his last minute shopping. His husband is running late to pick him up and the bags are not getting lighter any second.

“Yeah, yeah I am still near the tree. Where are you?”

Both not gifted with height make them impossible to identify. There are women and men and children all covered with layers and layers of woollen stuff and bustling about and jostling people and being busybodies all around.

There is loud music and even louder cheers that go off randomly and fake chocolate fireworks that erupt at the most opportune moments and shower candy on the greedy crowd.

People with diabetes are hogging the chocolates from the kids and stepping on shoes and Furihata hates the shopping and curses his procrastinating ass with all the musical words he could think of.

And his phone is dying and his signal is getting weaker. Just _fascinating_.

There is a glimmer.

And its gone.

There is that glimmer again.

That red has no right to belong on anybody other than him.

Furihata sighs. It is different than all the other sighs.

He breathes into the receiver, “Yeah no, just stand right where you are. I see you.”

And he runs.

To the person he would gladly push through the crowd for. The one who looks at him like he is a Christmas miracle.

His Akashi.


	78. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Akafuri + "staff only"  
> I honestly do not know why ANYTHING involving cooking turns into either competition or porn//shakes head// welp anyway I cant write porn so here goes some good old rivalry!

Furihata sees the sign. _Staff only_. Reads it. And pushes past it.

Akashi is standing in the room inside. There are a bunch of newbies and the senior employees getting up and starting to clear out the room when he gets in.

He glowers once at Akashi.

“What the fuck was that?”

Akashi appears preoccupied with cleaning his well manicured nails. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

Furihata throws his hands up in the air. “Fuck you Akashi. You know very well my café’s chocolate pastries do better than here I have no idea what the fuck you are trying to do! Put me out of business?? Does crushing the competition-”

“I never said anything bad!” Akashi appears shocked. “I said they were actually good.”

“……For someone who doesn’t have a pedigree in culinary arts.” Furihata spits out the words. 

Akashi delicately shrugs a shoulder, “Well, don’t deny the truth.”

Furihata fumes. And glowers. And sees the plate of croissants on the table. And smirks.

He saunters and bends to smell them. They are heavenly of course. And as flaky as fairy dust. Its made him salivate for them after he bribed his workers into getting them for him.  

But he also knows Akashi takes great pride in making them himself.

“Have I ever told you,” Furihata smiles sweetly at Akashi. Akashi gulps. “Your dough is the flakiest I have ever tasted?” Furihata licked his lips slowly, never taking his eyes off Akashi, who stood frozen. He walks towards Akashi, closing in on his personal space. He sees Akashi’s throat bob. And whispers, close to his ear, “Makes me really curious how flaky the chef is.”

And he flees before Akashi could react.


	79. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> akafuri + "Fools rush in where angels fear to tread"  
> This is NO SONGFIC I tell you. That song just HAPPENED to get itself woven into my writing. That's it. Nothing else.

Akashi considered himself a wise man. Veritable wealth of knowledge with a streak of realism. The ins and outs of societal unspoken golden customs imbibing him to tune into what was worthy enough for him and his glorified status on the ladder and what was not.

And he was most certainly not a fool.

But he didn’t take into count, one Furihata Kouki who burst into his dreary colourless life like the breathe of a salacious scandal and shifted the normality of life off its axis.

“Akashi-kun, would you mind if I take a few minutes of your time to discuss the upcoming proposal?”

“Akashi-kun, you are coming to the meeting in Milan, yes?”

Its been four years and working with Furihata is pure _torture_.

“I have scheduled your tailor for a fitting today, the meeting with the French Minister is postponed to tomorrow, and” Furihata reaches forward to tuck the tie behind the collar on Akashi’s shirt, oblivious to the effect he has the man, “it would be nice if you could finish the fitting earlier so we can see the city for once.“

Akashi prides himself for not combusting into flames.

Wise men say, only fools rush in.

Akashi considers himself to be a wise man.

Definitely not a fool. Definitely no rushing in into anything.

But he reaches for Furihata’s hand and walks along the Sienne and practically turns the shade of his hair when Furihata smiles at him.

As the river flows surely into the sea, Akashi cant help but fall more and more in love with him with every second that passes by.


	80. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Akafuri + "reverence"  
> I told you I cant write porn and I wasn't lying.  
> This was supposed to be fluffy but it turned into pure body worship ha ah OTL  
> Not explicit or anything though.

“You like doing that, don’t you?” Furihata smiles. He is warm and languid and soft. Atypical of the afterglow state he is in. His body has that rich healthy flush and shining with sweat and smelling of satisfaction. His sighs echo off the walls when Akashi kisses his skin. Licks over the bites and sucks lightly in places he had missed.

He chooses to be more particular next time.

Akashi maps every inch of that delicious skin. With eyes, with fingers, with tongue, with teeth.

“You taste like heaven, Kouki. Its only customary that I savour it.”

Furihata chuckles, grabs Akashi by his hair with those lazy limbs of his and pulls him into a kiss.

This too, Akashi maps. Each crevice and each pull of tongue. Which brings Furihata the best pleasure. He knows when he bites Furihata’s lower lip and pulls it lightly, it would make him moan. And he is answered when Furihata growls and flips them over, starting his own study of the beauty that was Akashi’s body.

Their bodies are a careful, meticulous, delicate study. 

Of touch, of taste, of everything.

And they plan to study forever.


	81. Midotaka

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Midotaka + "haunted house"  
> I originally went for a school trip kinda thing but I got distracted by a modern witch and scientist AU that I had seen floating around tumblr radar. So this is where my Midorima the Wizard and Takao the Scientist AU originated. I had ideas of expanding this later but who knows how later it will be ha ha.

“Are you _sure_ this is the address?”

This was the fifth time he had been asked. Just in the last three hours. And it wasn’t even midnight yet. 

Midorima nodded curtly, “Yes, I am afraid it is. Could you direct me, please?”

“Hmm,” the villager looked him up and down and finally shrugged. Midorima didn’t miss the wary glances shot at him by the villagers or the hushed whispers that fevered around him. “Sure. It’s the one at the end of the road. Just about to hit the trees. Can’t miss it.”

Midorima picked up the suitcases off the road and walked off, nearly missing the next few words.

“But it’s haunted……why would you want to go there? It’s not safe….” The villager was still scratching his head and looking at him with both concern and a curiosity that Midorima did not care for.

If he wasn’t so bad at directions and gotten lost at every single one of them, he would have reached his destination a lot sooner and without everyone asking him why he was going there. Not that he had any trouble with directions, no. 

He was heading for a new chapter in his life, after all. Positivity and all that.

*

“He is unpredictable haha, but harmless I assure you. You wouldn’t find another like him.” Himuro had told him, more or less shoving a piece of paper with the hastily scribbled address on it in his face. Murasakibara was no where to be seen. And Himuro had used that opportunity to wheedle ‘his Atsushi’ out of working with Midorima and recommending one of his so-called - dubious, if Midorima had any say (he didn’t) - friends for the job of the scientist to help the wizard with his inventions.

And now he was in search for a certain Takao Kazunari, mad scientist extraordinaire and a possible replacement for the talented but lazy Murasakibara.

Midorima just hoped that he wasn’t as lazy. Or as hungry. 

And he could feel a chapter of his life close with Murasakibara walking out of it. Making a new one with Himuro in his own.

*

“Hello?” The house looked pretty eerie, but Midorima was used to eeriness, given his chosen profession. With the full moon blanching its light on it, the house, neatly isolated from the others in the village looked straight out of a cheap horror movie.

If a bat flew from one of the windows or the door opened on its own with no one behind it, Midorima would be very disappointed.

He knocked again. “Excuse me?”

“WHAT? _Whaaaaat?_ What _is it?_ Its fucking midnight, who the fuck is knocking on my fucking door?” The front door burst open, and a figure shorter than Midorima by a feet peered up at him, rubbing his face with his palm. It glared at Midorima when it sighted him. “You! Who the fuck are you and what do you want?”

Midorima got over his shock, willing his heart to start pumping again, “Hello. I am Midorima Shintarou, Wizard appointed for the Shuutoku Region? I believe Himuro Tatsuya has already spoken to you?”

Annoyance. Confusion. Then finally, realisation. Expressions flitted on that face like a movie. Used to being around expressionless and poker faced people all his life, this was something rare for him to see. 

“Ohh, so you are the one. You are late.” Takao raised a brow. Midorima stiffened. Takao sighed and moved, gesturing inside. “Come on in. Make yourself at home.”

Midorima lugged his bags inside, finding the place inside in complete mess. Potions bottles and beakers and cauldrons and ladles were everywhere. The papers and notes and quills were scattered. He was pretty certain the ink bottles were not supposed to be kept on the floor for use.

Midorima felt his heart die a little inside. 

“Oh, come on, don’t look like that. Its not dirty ok? Its organised chaos.” Takao started climbing the stairs to the rooms above.

“If you say, so.” Midorima followed. His suitcases banging on the steps and echoing in the empty house.

The door closed behind, on its own like in one of the cheap horror movies, and opened the not so anticipated new chapter in Midorima’s life.

Funny how Takao turned out to be more than just one chapter.

Eventually into a whole book.


	82. Midotaka

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Midotaka + "Rock Paper Scissors"  
> I frankly loved writing this one. Somehow I liked the idea of Midorima winning but still ending up pulling Takao on the ride.

“Rock! Paper! Scissors!”

Takao nearly punches the wall with his fist. Midorima’s flat hand irritates him. And he is no less smug. The bastard.

“HOW?!”

“Hm?”

“How, I swear to fucking god, is it that I always lose?!” Takao stares at his fist some more. It stares back.

Midorima considers him silently. Takao hasn’t been in his element today. No teasing, no mad cackling, no nothing. He is quiet and now, angry.

Midorima sighs.

“Alright, I will drive today.” Midorima positions himself on the ride and throws a questioning look at the shocked Takao. “Hop on. I won’t say it the second time.”

Takao sits in, still gaping at Midorima. He recovers and smiles as Midorima starts pedalling.

Takao holds his knees to his chest and drops his chin on them. It is quiet, but not filled with tension as before. He looks at the passing scenery. Lamps are lighting up. Moon is rising. No cloud in sight today. Their practice had gone late but this is the last year they have together, so they were doing everything to compensate for past losses. Not to mention the other things cropping up as well.

“It was college applications again.”

Midorima stays silent.

“I told her. I told her a dozen times I don’t want to get into styling. Does she listen? _No._ ” Takao rubs a hand over his face. He feels tired of the same argument at breakfast. “You know,” he says softly, “I just wish I could get into nursing. Its what I want to do.”

Midorima hums.

“What? You don’t believe me?”

“No, not like that. I didn’t think you wanted to be around hospitals or answering calls all the time. It is, if you recall, a tiring job.”

Takao fingers the floor, tracing the lines lazily. “Yeah I know. It will be taxing and boring and listening to old people and have that hospital odour all the time…..but.”

“But.”

“There is always a but.”

“I know. What’s yours?” Midorima is smiling, Takao thinks.

“I want to do it.” Takao looks at the moon. Full moon today. “I want to cheer up patients and take care of them and tell them they are going to be fine and see the old ones and play checkers with them when their own kids don’t visit and see young kids and make them laugh and forget the stuffy hospital atmosphere. I just. I don’t know. I am good at taking care of people. I am good at making people laugh. Why cant I do both?”

“That is the question.”

“Shin-chan, The Ever Helpful.”

“You didn’t ask me for advise. You ranted to me.”

“I asked you a question! You could have given an answer, you know?”

“And make your decision for you? I don’t think so.”

Takao fumes silently. He knows Midorima is right. Midorima knows he is right. Midorima knows he knows Midorima is right.

“……..I.”

“…………”

“…….I am going to do it.”

“Do what, exactly?”

Takao looks back up at the shining moon. “I am going to nursing school.” He smiles widely. “No matter what mother says.”

“Hmm. Good for you. One question though.” Midorima is pretty sure he is slightly out of breath. So to speak. “Do you always weigh so much?”

“Fuck you,“ Takao laughs without malice, "you weigh a lot more than me.”

He feels a weight lifted off his shoulders.

The moon is full today.

Takao looks at Midorima pedalling, smiling warmly.

Miracles do happen during the full moon.


	83. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Akafuri + "dinner date"  
> Have I ever told you I love "fake dating" trope? I love "fake dating" tropes. I absolutely adore them all.  
> This drabble probably doesn't make much sense ha ha but when has something of mine ever did????

“Do you think you can get out of this?” Furihata sits on Akashi’s desk, holding up the embossed invitation to the Annual Party of the Akashi Corps.

Akashi sighed and rubbed his temples, “Sadly no, even if I don’t bring a date, this dinner is still going to happen. I am half expecting my father’s minions to come bulldoze me into going there if I even think of hiding off somewhere.”

Furihata raises an eyebrow, “So, get a date.”

Akashi looks at him blankly. Which perfectly translates to _Are you fucking Serious?_ Furihata is impressed with the look. “Momoi usually accompanies me. She loves to spew half truths and make people believe go around the twist with her brazenness. But no, unfortunately this year, she is spending more time with Riko.”

“Ah. The curses of a fulfilling relationship.”

“Don’t mock.” Akashi sends a stray glare.

Furihata fidgets with his tie. “So you could ask someone to pretend right? I mean, you are gay. You wanna show people you are gay. What better way than to come to the dinner with someone on your arm who is -clearly- a male? I mean, if your dad doesn’t like the person you are with, then he wouldn’t mind you being gay much right? You just need someone who could annoy him enough that he thinks you being gay is far less trouble than your date!”

Akashi stares. And stares some more.

“Wait. Hold on. Let me recap. So I go to this function with an annoying guy and suddenly my dad would decide ‘Oh no, my son could do better and what, get me engaged to Tony Stark?’”

Furihata is clearly laughing now. “No all I am saying is, take a friend. Fight there. See whose side your father gets on. Play off of that.” He smiles wryly. “Hell, I would do the friend part for you, even.”

Akashi stares again.

“Come on, Akashi you don’t have much time. You were supposed to leave your office fifteen minutes ago.”

Akashi unfreezes. “So, you want to go to a dinner date with me and show people we are a bad couple so that I can out myself?”

Furihata nodded. “Its genius if you think about it.”

“I am a genius and I am still thinking about it.”

Furihata grins and gets off the desk. “Well that’s settled then! Pick me up at 8!” And saunters out the door after throwing a saucy wink at the flabbergasted Akashi.

Akashi doesn’t hear the door close. His heart is still trying to catch up to what his mind had processed.

He and Furihata are going on a date tonight.

To the most boring function of his life.

And show people they don’t fit together.

Akashi thinks, of all the subtle ways he had thought of asking Furihata out and starting a tentative relationship, this has got to be the worst one.

He just hopes his heart will be able to withstand the pretention of this.

He knows that he wont.


	84. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had this weird idea of Akashi being dramatic. I let that headcanon rule me until I scratched that itch.  
> Hence the result.  
> Garbage fluff really. I was overpowered by that silly headcanon.

Akashi Seijuro was and always has been one for public announcements. Proclamations. Dramatic openings. The like.

It is probably something to do with the sort of mafia movies he loves to watch, aka repeatedly until he can recite all of the script by heart, but Furihata is not going down that road….now.

He knew Akashi lived off of seeing the quiet, stunned awe and respect and other much likely terrified expressions on people’s faces when he walked - no, strutted, mind - into the room. Or declared something of huge importance. Like how it was his plan to let the GOM go to different high schools and his plan to let the team fall apart and his plan to have Kuroko go to an obscure school and his plan to shift the Akashi Corporation Head Quarters to Kyoto.

Not the last one probably. Masaomi had shook his head and commiserated with Furihata at the over dramatic displays of his son at dinner. It had been a bonding moment for the two of them. Akashi grumbles at their special friendship, even now.

But, that is deviating from the focus of today’s topic. Which is. Primarily.

Akashi loved the “ahhhh” feeling of reveal. He was the one who would bring a full grown _Doberman_  - _“Really Sei? That dog?” “But Kouki, its such a nice well behaved dog!”_ -to a fluffy pet show. He would be the one to wear a tailored suit to a graduation party. Not the graduation no. But the party. _Two_ tailored suits. For the same crowd. _“But, Kouki, I cant possibly be wearing the same thing for both occasions!”_

 _But, Kouki! But, Kouki!_  My ass.

Sigh.

Furihata really should have known better than to think Akashi would keep quiet about them.

About the fact that they have been fucking each other six ways to sunday for the past two years.

It was a testament to Furihata’s persuasion skills that Akashi had lasted this long in keeping their relationship a secret. Except from his father. Who had taken one look at them and had known. It had been terrifying then, but all their stress had come to nothing. _“Nothing?! You told him I snored! To my own father!” “But he asked! And besides, you don’t snore. You hum in your sleep. I find it very cute.” “Don’t mollify me, Kouki. That wont get you anywhere- what are you doing?” “Making up to you.” “You wh-Kouki! Giving me a blowjob wont-oh! That’s…nice.  Keep going.”_

Furihata felt his cock stirred in his pants. He crossed his legs. Thus wasn’t the time for that. Later, maybe. Shit. Wrong thought. He shook his head. He was deviating too much. Akashi had started talking.

“Me and Furihata are in a relationship. It started two years ago when I realised I had feelings for him more than what a dorm roommate was supposed to have and today is our anniversary and I thought it was high time you know. Now I know this may be a shock to you-”

“Its not, Akashi-kun.” Kuroko’s voice was clear as crystal. Breaking the rant in one clean slice.

Kagami followed, “Yeah man. Its pretty obvious.”

“Is that why you called us here? Tch.” Aomine ran a hand through his hair, his grumpy expression getting grumpier, “Such a waste. You better have booze for the pain it took to get here.”

Midorima pushed up his glasses, irritation colouring his tone, “Akashi we play shogi every month, it has been obvious for years. Since high school, even.”

“Wait, just two years?” Takao exclaimed, watching Akashi and Furihata’s faces for conformation, as if waiting for them to deny something. What, Furihata didn’t know. “So during the third year in school when you both were captains and threatening each other and all that heat and snark was not sex?! You weren’t secretly fucking like bunnies in the locker room back then??!”

That statement sent a round of murmured humming through the crowd. Everyone seemed to argue from which exact time Akashi had been at Furihata’s ass. Some claims went back to the first year of high school too. Furihata squirmed at the mention of “The Lion and Chihuahua” moment. He and Akashi had been able to put that past themselves by the time they finished high school.

He shook his head. Deviating again. His attention span was really something to checked later. He glanced at his boyfriend. He knew Akashi would be disappointed at things not going well.

What he saw answered his doubts.

Looking at Akashi, Furihata knew he was shocked at his reveal falling flat. So he did what any self respecting boyfriend would do.

Taking a deep breath, Furihata squared his shoulders and stepped up. “Its an anniversary of sorts.” The silence that followed was careful, cautious. Even Akashi was looking at him, a bit wary. He ventured, with a smile. “Its the day Akashi confessed to me on the rooftop, naked.”

The gasps were enough to please Akashi.

Akashi snakes an arm around his waist and pulls him close. “Thank you.”

Furihata whispers back, “You better make it up to me tonight.” Which roughly translated to _“I just saved your dignity in front of our friends so you better try hard to make me cum which just your tongue in my ass tonight. Or else.”_

Akashi laughed, his eyes glittering heatedly. They hold promise. And more. So much more. Furihata shivers delightedly.  

Akashi Seijuro liked the big reveal. 

But he liked it better when his boyfriend stole the court. 


	85. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kinda discovered that i had like ...........7 more drabbles which I had posted on tumblr but not on here ha ha//sheepish//  
> So. Anyway, for the next few days these silly things will be put on here. 
> 
> akafuri + "Everyone can see it"

“Its so obvious!!” Takao states, grinning into his cup of mocha, bubbles erupting on top at his chuckle.

Furihata gets off the chair, nearly knocking it over, shock and accusation written all over his face, “Well why didn’t you tell me?!”

“We thought you knew, Kouki.” Himuro doesnt look perturbed in the least, his eyes following Furihata’s frantic pacing around their living room. His tone doesn’t tease but it has some level of surprise in it that just rubs Furihata the wrong way. “It’s like-it’s like telling Kagami, “oh yeah you like basketball”. Its been pretty obvious for a long time.“

Furihata slows down. His heart doesn’t. His mind doesn’t. Reels and reels of his friendship with Akashi play in his mind, this time with him as a spectator, and groans. "How could I have been so blind.”

He slumps in his chair, his hot chocolate untouched and his friends silent as he ruminates over the fact that Akashi, his Akashi was flying to London tomorrow.

For forever.


	86. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> akafuri + "Longing Look"

“I am not looking at him, no.” Akashi asserts himself, crossing his arms over his chest. He frowns when it doesn’t seem to have its effect and Mibuchi just hums at him. “I am looking at the car, I am worried whether he would chip off the paint. That is all.”

Mibuchi is not deterred, “Sei-chan, this is the fifth time you have brought your car over to him. In one month.” Akashi bristles when Mibuchi bends down a little, his eyelids shutting halfway, and whispering in that all-knowing voice, “Admit it Sei-chan, you want to bend him over the hood of your car and go to town.”

He makes a face. “You have been hanging around Mayuzumi too much.” He shakes his head, gesturing to Furihata, who has his full concentration on fixing the transmission. “I mean, look at him, he is covered in grease, badly in need of a shower and stinks like petrol." And no, that does not evoke an unwanted twitch in his pants. Definitely not. It was just sultry and his pants were a bit tight than this morning. "You can’t possibly say I am attracted to _that_.”

Mibuchi smiles wider, his eyes sparkling with glee like a kid who just got a candy, “If you aren’t, then why are we here at noon, skipping lunch on a Wednesday, when you and I both know how to fix up the ‘problem’ your car seems to have?”

“Hmph.” Akashi looks away. And five seconds later, his eyes inevitably stray towards Furihata again.

That seemed to be answer enough.


	87. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> akafuri + "Hanahaki Disease"  
> As is the trope, this is angst. Slightly confusing since its more of a scenario than a drabble but still angst.

Akashi and Furihata married for convenience when they were 20. Their families are super wealthy and powerful and this alliance is very beneficial to both. (Of course that is disregarding the fact that this is mainly to tie the assets and not for legacy sake, political alliance and power and all that).

Seijuro and Kouki do not interact for a while but there is no outward hostility. They are just two different people living in the same house like roommates but for all legal purposes, married. There is an incident with a spider in the bathroom and Akashi shrieks and Furi comes to the rescue and they awkwardly laugh it off and since then they wave and smile at each other. 

“Hey, you read the paper?” “Yeah, you need toast? I am making some.”

There is also an incident when a neighbour’s dog jumps inside the house from the balcony and they have a great time playing with it that Akashi suggests maybe they should get a dog.

“Maybe a dobermann. What do you think?” “How about a german shepherd?”

Once Furihata has midnight craving for chocolate and sees Akashi sitting in front of their TV watching old Korean dramas because he wasn’t able to sleep and joins him.

“Cant sleep?” “No, I am tired I know that but my brain is too wired to sleep.” “Want me to make some tea? What are you watching?” “Thank you. Chamomile would be lovely, I think we have some in the top shelf. Ah…I am not sure, does it even matter? They are all the same anyway.” “Ha ha, my mother would kill you if she heard that.”

Slowly but surely ‘something’ akin to crush happens.

It takes a year to call each other by their first names, and a year more to actually have the guts to ask his own husband on a date, but they do. Lines are crossed, boundaries are broken and their marriage doesn’t seem like a farce anymore.

Until, one morning, a small flower sprouts from Kouki’s nape.

Akashi consults the best surgeons, flies them from various countries for the antidote to the disease but all in vain.

“No….there is no way this is happening. I _cannot_ let this happen.” He is teary and shaking. Kouki kisses his cheeks, wiping away the tears. There are flowers all over him now, sprouting from his neck, hands, feet, arms everything. His hair looks like a field of flowers bursting and peeping from chestnut hair like a mangled flower crown. He looks more beautiful than ever.

Akashi recalls a date they spent rolling around in a field, dandelions dancing in the wind, Kouki’s laughter echoing as he ran and their dog yapping happily beside him. Akashi thinks back to how wonderful Kouki looked when he made flower crowns for all three of them. He thinks back to how life was before Kouki and what life will be after he leaves, flower petals whisking him away from Akashi. He doesn’t want to think about it.

Because Akashi cannot bear to look at flowers anymore.


	88. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> akafuri + "amnesia"  
> THIS WAS MY FAVOURITE. I dont like much angst and I had read this AMAZING manga with this trope so I wanted to have an au of it for these dorks.

Akashi waits in the hospital pacing back and forth, waiting for Kouki to wake up anytime now.

Car accident they said.

Memory distortion they said.

He doesn’t even know what that means. Would Kouki remember him? Would he remember _them_? Would he recall their wedding? Their dating? Anything?

The perfect life he had built for himself outside of the shadow of his father is falling apart now and there is nothing he can do about it and it _kills_ him.

“Um….”

He turns, Kouki is trying to sit up, holding his head with his hand and looking furtively at Akashi.

Seijuro regains his composure. He seats himself next to Kouki. “Hello, love.”

There is a blush adorning his cheeks. “L-Love?”

Akashi curses himself for slipping up. _Shit, he doesn't remember!_

He needs to take Kouki through all the years they have spent together. All the little things that made up their cherished domestic life.

This is good reason.

This is a careful step in ensuring Kouki doesn't get overwhelmed. Kouki needs to trust him, slowly, implicitly, until they reach the level they had before the accident. It will take time, but he can wait. He can _really_ wait. Akashi prides himself for his patience. He nods at his reasoning.

But his mind apparently has other ideas.

He brings up his right hand, “We are married.”

So much for patience.

_WHAT THE FUCK, BRAIN??!!! WHAT DID I JUST SAY????!!!!! OH SHIT OH SHIT KOUKI IS GOING TO- HE IS GOING TO- I DON'T EVEN HAVE A PLACE OF MY OWN! KOUKI WILL KICK ME OUT! I AM GOING TO BE HOMELESS ALL BECAUSE OF YOU YOU STUPID PIECE OF-_

Akashi curses himself when he notices Furihata squirming. He eyes Kouki carefully. Expecting shock, disgust or worse, denial. His guts are churning with anticipation and his throat is all dry. He can't even begin to look for water right now. 

But there is a definitely a blush, spreading fast and thick across Kouki's cheeks to the tips of his ears and reaching down to his neck.

“EHHHH? REALLY? We are married???!! YOU? And ME?! But you are so handsome!!"

Akashi's heart skips a beat. A long, century long, beat. 

Then he melts. 

_Yup._

_Kouki has always been in love with him._

_Wow, Kouki. I love you more now_.

Akashi sits with a wide smile on his face as Kouki slowly, nervously reaches for his hand and holds them together. Interlacing their fingers and tracing their wedding rings with the other hand. There is still that look of unbelievable wonder in his face as he steals glances at Akashi every now and then. He blushes everytime he catches Akashi looking back at him. To Akashi, he has never looked more adorable. 

And Akashi thinks, with the chances of memories returning were very low, it didn’t mean he shouldn’t enjoy the moments that life threw at him.

His mind is thinking ahead as usual.  All the new dates and experiences that they could relive, all the places they could visit. Akashi has been given a miraculous chance at falling in love with the same man again and making him fall for him. He would be a fool not to cherish it. 

And akashi was great many things but not a fool.

Besides, a second wedding in the near future doesn’t sound so bad.  

Who knows, maybe Akashi will be the one to propose this time round.


	89. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> akafuri +"meet at a wedding"

“Hello.” They nod to each other, a polite acknowledgement. They have seen each other before. Weddings, showers and the occasional office party. Its always somehow them.

Furihata checks things off his mental list, food station here is pretty good, his staff is running on clock and as smoothly as they can, even Sakurai is busy enough to not say sorry. His catering business has been taking off pretty well thanks to the recommendation by his friends and the like.

“Its not you, Furihata-kun. We aren’t doing this because we are friends. Its because you are that good.” Kuroko had said, after watching Kagami eat about ten plates of the buffet at their wedding.

“Give yourself some credit, Furi! Your food is awesome.” Takao had grinned, confetti sticking to his hair as he watched Midorima pick up their daughter and wish her a happy birthday.

Its warm its kind its meaningful what he does, bringing joy to people with his food. The only way he knows how.

Today looks like a good day, he thinks, the outdoor reception of the Murasakibara-Himuro wedding getting things set up and the good buzz of the place making him feel powered up to give his best, once again.

“Excuse me.” He turns and sees the photographer of the wedding standing near him.

There it was again. The little flip in his stomach.

“Yes?” he asks. They had seen each other a bunch of times. Never a word exchanged. Only polite nods. This was new.

“Um.” The red haired, _very_ beautiful man scratches his cheek. It reminds Furi of a cat - maybe it was his eyes. “Tatsuya-the groom……he would like pictures of the food. Something about gifting them to Atsushi.” He shrugs, his shoulders falling delicately. His gaze veers to Furi. “Would you help me out?”

 _I_ _ntense_.

He doesn’t know whether the guy is doing this deliberately or not, but the gaze was intense. Anchoring him. “Y-yeah! Sure. This way please.”

Furi takes him to his kitchen where the food is just getting ready to be laid out on the buffet tables, his companion walking along side him, clicking pictures frequently. 

He knows that the photographer is sought after and is professional. He also knows that his food being taken pictures of by the attractive photographer was just a part of the job. Nothing more. 

What he doesn’t know are the pictures Akashi takes of him as he bends over to place the food on the table. 


	90. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> akafuri + "Steampunk" AU  
> Oh ha ha ok this is a switch between “ha ha you got this a bit wrong but mostly ok I get what you mean kiddo” and “oh jeez you didn’t even google this did you”

“What is this?” Famous last words, Shiori thinks. Seven year old Seijuro bounds up to her. Holding up a nautical compass and trying to both admire and touch but also bite it. He gives up after one of the pointy ends pinches his lip.

Books and assorted equipment are scattered in the tiny basement of their house, a secret trove in the world of Shiori. And today she let her son in.

This was possibly the bajillionth time he had asked that question, and she should be tired, should be irked, but all she sees in the wonder in his eyes and the light, careful touches he places and the cautious threading on the floor so to not disturb anything and the narrowing in his eyebrows when he comes across something he doesn’t understand. He doesn't give up on asking, understanding and trying to make the strange equipments work on his own. He doesn't succeed but Shiori knows its only a matter of time before he does. Before he surpasses her with his skills. 

Her son was going to be the adventurer she did not have the opportunity to be. She will make sure of it. Masaomi be damned.

Seijuro gives up soon though. With Shiori’s death, the light dies from his eyes and the wonder fades from his mind. The secret basement is locked forever.

Until one day the grief takes over him and he goes with one single purpose: _Destroy_.

And he does. Baubles and compasses and needles and telescopes are broken, thrown against the wall and lie shattered at his feet. Maps and notes and papers with Shiori's lovely handwriting are slashed, torn and ripped, pieces fluttering with the force of his anger.

The place is in shambles as he lets out his rage, he crumbles on the floor and sobs. The little child of ten destroying everything his mother built, in a temper tantrum because he wanted her to come back. Even if just to scold him.

Something falls from a desk and rolls to him. The nautical compass.

The symbols on it do not match the ones that should be on it. The symbols and the letters on most things do not match what language he learnt. What language he should be learning. He is prepared to throw it away. But he doesn’t.

Frenzied actions take control. Crazy urges to decipher what his mother was trying to, invade his mind.

It takes him years. Years of hiding behind his father, years of practicing business like he was supposed to as the heir of the Akashi clan. Years to recreate what his mother made and what he destroyed. Years of building something that should work, that should take him somewhere or bring something here - to serve some purpose according to his mother’s unfinished calculations - but he doesn’t know. Years to finish what his mother started, what he craves as his closure for.

Its a portal, that's all he knows. Its a portal to where, to what, to what end, he doesn't know.

It frustrates him that for nearly two decades since her death, he still doesn’t know what Shiori was aiming for. He works and he works and he works, never stopping with every pathetic attempt that fails to succeed. 

Until one day, one fine day, he does.

There is a boom, clashe, smoke, sparkle and a section of the wall shrinks into itself like a gaping black hole, sucking all the light in the basement, whooshing and screaming until it all stops and a figure emerges.

Furihata Kouki sits on his desk, hands clasped on lap, smiling slyly at him from beneath those long bangs and sizing him up.

_Dangerous_ , Akashi’s mind screamed.

There are curved horns on his head and the huge bat wings obediently wrap themselves around him and the lazily swishing tail toys with the pens on his table. 

“Its so rude of me not to drop by when you have been trying to give your soul to me for a long time now, isn’t it?”

Furihata gives him a once over, his yellow eyes glittering, wide grin showing off his sharp canines and winks at him, "In fact, I might just be interested in something more than just your soul."

He waves a lazy hand and the basement sets itself right again. Not a thing out of place. As if nothing had happened. 

Except for him. 

Akashi stares and stares. 

And gulps. 

He had just successfully summoned the crown prince of the underworld. Who was sitting there, calmly as you please, and flirting with him. 

He didn't think his mother intended this to be the end result. 


	91. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> akafuri + "character comes to life/gains sentience" AU
> 
> I HAVE ALWAYS WANTED TO DO A FRANKENSTEIN AU. oh man this was foolish and so much FUN.

“Shit man, you look like a dead guy walking.”

Furihata bristles, glaring at Takao, who just shrugs.

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock.” Furihata retorts tersely and Takao snickers, running off to the medical wing of the building, waving nonchalantly.

Furihata sighs and continues on his way home. He was trying everything. There was something, that was only to be done by him, not done before and he was going to be successful. He had to be successful. It can't be questioned. It was taking his life apart and it better be worth it. Imagining the glorifying success of his experiment is what that propels him to do anything these days.

Up on the attic, he looks at the table and sighs.

_Anyday now_.

Newspaper articles are tapered to the walls. Covering all windows and the ceiling. Headlines screaming -

"Corpses stolen!!"

"Returned with parts missing!!"

Cremation is preferred now. Cemetery security getting tightened. Mortuaries are warned of the masked hooligan. Hannibal on the loose. So on and so forth.

Furihata is not particularly fond of being called Hannibal. 

All the parts have been carefully assembled. The brain of a genius. the skin of a young beautiful woman, fresh before the cold of death could sink in. Hair of a foreigner. Eyes of a dancer who had died last week. Body had been of a boy younger than him by a few years, dead of cold. Tragic deaths all. But it had been timely enough for Furihata to take what he needed from them. He kept the “experiment” fresh, concocting ways to ward off the rotting of the organs. Stitching them up and using salves to meld them wherever needed. 

Now all he needed to do was wait.

Storm struck the town, attacking windows and hollering on doors and screeching into the night as rain lashed its fury. Thunder boomed angry, and following lightening as it seared the clouds.

Furihata had a good feeling about today.

A bolt of lightening struck through the high dome of Furihata’s attic. Cracking through the centre and striking the body on the table with full force. Enough to shake the building and everything in it. 

Furihata was thrown back into the wall at its impact. It nearly blinded his eyes when he opened them. 

 

For a few hours, nothing happened. the rain still pelted the windows and thunder screaming its rage. But slowly, the body on the table moved.

Furihata watched from his corner, cowering behind a fallen desk as his creation sat up slowly and blinked at him.

“H-Hi.” Furihata waved his hand slightly, for the first time, afraid of the new, afraid of his own creation. Afraid of what he had done.

The red haired, newly assembled human born from the dead, waved back. “Hi.”

And Furihata thought, as he smiled hesitantly at him and watched him smile back, imitating him, his fears abating a little.

For a lonely scientist like him, he had been successful in creating his own friend. 


	92. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> akafuri + "childhood enemy got really hot" AU
> 
> Fuck. This was so silly man. Ugh.

Its college and Akashi is settling in his new dorm when the door bursts open and there is a squawk, a mutter of cruses and constant chattering into thin air. A guy comes in laden with boxes, and there are a few more outside on the hallway and Akashi has a hard time believing how all of that is even going to fit in their tiny dorm. The guy dumps the boxes on the bed, constantly talking or rapping?? [can that even be called music??] He is wearing those cordless earphones and his hips sway slightly. 

Akashi has a bad feeling that him and his roommate wont be getting along well. The countless boxes and shuffling into his personal space don’t help the situation.

“Oh hello, didn’t see you there.” Wait. Akashi blinks. This guy picks on his height? Right away? He pushes his glasses further up his nose and frowns at the intruder.

O _kaaay_  buddy boy. You just signed your death sentence. 

“Hi, I am Furihata Kouki! Nice to meet you!” Sunny smile, incorrigible unkempt hair and crumpled shirt definitely reeking of sweat. He looks like he hadn’t showered in days. 

What the fuck? College hasn’t even started yet. So don’t go stereotyping the legendary zombie students before you got the chance to be one-

“Um, hello?? Can you hear me?” He has the audacity to wave his hand in front of him. He sighs when Akashi doesn’t respond and turns to put away his numerous boxes - which is code for shoving them under the bed. “You should get your glasses checked.” 

That _did it_.

Fifteen seconds in and Akashi cannot wait to change rooms. He storms off, shoving the guy a little on his way out. 

The squawk brings a tiny smile to his face.

 

Turns out, he cannot change roommates. or the dorm or the _university_ at this point. Akashi resigns himself to his fate, when the name strikes something in him. 

 _Furihata Kouki_.

There is some vague recollection of………that name in his memory. Why does he feel like he has heard that before? He calls his dad. Straight to voicemail. Of course. But a quick message should be enough.

Reply comes in much later, a few weeks later. When he is trying to study and keep the place clean and finds it fucking impossible to do with that guy lounging on the bed and blasting some shitty pop rock all day. Honestly, even though he listens to it on his earphones, the volume is so high, that Akashi is kinda slightly worried for his eardrums. 

There is stark contrast in the room, his side is clean, pristine and labelled. The other side though is a chaos. A calculated chaos he fervently hopes, otherwise his methodical mind wouldn’t be able to handle it very well. He might one day snap and end up cleaning Furihata's side.

He dreams of his room at his house, no pop rock, no smelly shirts and no stray underwear on bed.

And definitely no, admittedly attractive but, terribly shabby brunets.  

Furihata himself was quiet though. He usually kept to himself and read some manga or anything that caught his eye. Didn’t bother Akashi all that much. Though the people at their college seem to have a different opinion.

They were both popular. Akashi by his activities and positions earned and Furihata purely his charm. That fucking affable charm where he smiled easily and made people comfortable around him. No need to break walls or have awkward conversations. He just knew the right things to say.

Akashi was the only exception to that rule.

He wondered why.

_“Of course the name is familiar Seijuro! He beat you at the entrance examinations to Teiko Middle School remember? And I think your elementary too. Ah but he didn’t go to Teiko though, something about his father getting transferred but don’t you remember having him over? He made you cry that time when he won your Yukimaru plush toy you were foolish enough to bet on-”_

He didn’t wonder anymore.

He nearly smashed his phone as the memories assault him.

 

He wanted his Yuki plush toy back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp this is the last of them! See you guys when I write up a storm of drabbles again!!!!  
> Or.......I might finally update my cheesy multi chapter fic!!! //hums thoughtfully//


	93. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Akafuri + "sleepy hollow" au
> 
> Still doing askmemes oh my god, i know i know I couldn't stop myself. Ugh I have exams next month so this was relaxing enough to do.

Akashi bides his time. 

There is a headless horseman looming over the village like a foreboding cloud, murdering and decapitating his victims because of a curse. 

The murders have been supposedly random, but Akashi knows better. 

The charts, the timings, the identities of the victims are more than enough for Akashi to know that this was one of the most meticulously premeditated killings he has encountered in his time at the police force. 

And he does not like the conclusions he draws. Not one bit. 

*

Furihata Kouki knows. 

He knows that there is a curse that is plaguing the village and exactly whom has let the headless horseman go on his killing spree. 

The curse itself is known knowledge - whomsoever has the head of the headless horseman, controls and directs him, killing whomever they choose. The deed was done with the Devil and they paid the price if and only if the head gets attached back to the body. The one who initiated the curse shall be killed last, ending the curse. 

He knows who is getting killed, why they are getting killed and who is doing the killing. 

But he doesn’t want Akashi to capture the suspect. 

No matter how much he likes Akashi he cant yet make the suspect - the actual killer who controls the horseman like a puppet - go to jail. 

He steels his nerves, taking deep breaths and destroys all the evidence that Akashi has.

Not knowing that he has become a suspect by doing so.

*

The curse is still at large. 

Its even more terrifying now when all the villagers have gathered near the local church and watch the headless horseman pacing just outside the church grounds, unable to get in, frustration raging in every twitch of lifeless body. 

The victims have all been done in, only one remains and that is Furihata Kouki. 

Kouki, who protected the killer.

Kouki, who betrayed Akashi’s love and drew attention to himself rather than the killer. 

Kouki, who stands before the killer - a woman whom he thought to be his own mother, who wanted and schemed for nothing but his and his family’s destruction -  tears straining his cheeks at the betrayal.

Kouki, who had loved the woman so much - who held aloft the head of the horseman high in her fist as she decreed him to be the last victim. 

Kouki, who holds his head high with dignity of those fallen but proud and walks slowly towards the horseman, wanting all of this to be done with, wanting Akashi but couldn’t ever hope for it after the deed done by him. 

Kouki, who turns in surprise at the uproar behind him. 

Only to find Akashi, his Akashi, battling the screeching woman and throwing the head up in the air. The fuming, galloping horseman doesn’t wait for a second as he grips the head and attaches it back to his body.

He doesn’t wait a second more before he rushes into the church’s holy grounds and forcibly snatches the woman. Taking her back to the Devil and ending the curse. 

Furihata Kouki breathes.

He looks up from where he saw the horseman disappear with the woman to Akashi. Who is looking at him with the same expression. 

Astonishment. Shock. Relief. 

And then, finally. Happiness. 

They start to trudge towards each other before running headlong and ending up falling and rolling and laughing. 

Akashi kisses Kouki, who kisses back fiercely.

It was wet, sticky and too much teeth because they couldn’t stop laughing. 

Their arms hold each other tight. One time of letting go was enough experience for both of them. They don’t risk it the second time. 

It was a good day to be alive and in love. 


	94. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> akafuri + "a bollywood movie of my choice"

Kouki tries not to cry. He holds himself still, upright and chin up and blinks in rapid succession. He will not cry. He will remain strong for Seijuro. His Seijuro. 

The scene in front of him makes him question the tenuous hold on his unshed tears. 

Seijuro stands, transfixed, unable to believe what is in front of him. Its been too long. Its been ten years too long. The hair, the eyes, the lines on the face. Its the face he has dreamed about, silently wept over for the past however long before he had steeled himself not to think about it. Every mention of the past had been buried. Too painful to move on. 

It just cannot be real. It cant be. 

But it is. 

His mother stands in front of him. 

Shiori’s hand is outstretched. Her face disbelieving, her eyes glassy, waiting to wake up from the dream this is. Because that is what this has to be. 

But her heart denies it as quickly as it comes. 

Its her son. 

Her long lost, exiled son and his husband stand before her, ten years aged than she had last seen them, matured like fine wine. As sure as the beat of her heart, she knows she has found him again. 

She has found her Seijuro. 

Her son, her prince, her blood. 

She cracks, a weak smile, tears spilling over the edges of her eyes as she reaches out to her boy, her sweet sweet boy, and cradles her palm to his cheek, feeling his tears. “Sei………”

“Mother……….” Seijuro croaks, and slowly places his hand above hers on his cheek, the other firmly holding his husband’s. For strength, for grounding, for making sure this wasn’t a cruel illusion conjured by too many wishful dreams. Even if it was, Kouki will come to his rescue. As he always will.

Ten years exiled by his father because of the love he felt for his Kouki, ten years of being torn from his mother. His family or his love, that was the ultimatum Masaomi had set. 

He had chosen Kouki over his family, walking away holding tightly onto Kouki without looking back, never regretting that decision. But he had felt incomplete. Till today. 

Because today, a piece of his soul had come back to him.   

[The movie is [Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Gham](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kabhi_Khushi_Kabhie_Gham...) and I swear its a sob fest involving the most good looking family in the world. Bollywood drama at its best.]


	95. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Akafuri + "angel sanctuary" au
> 
> this is a manga I didn't know about so I just took it at the face of it and made an au of my choice.

“You know what?” Furihata drawls, his eyes droopy and voice slurry.

Himuro and Takao sigh collectively. “What.”

Furihata frowns. “No need to sound deri…..der…..snappy!”

Takao chuckles, ruffling Furihata’s hair. “Its so cute. You sound like you are drunk.”

“I am not drunk!”

“We know.” Himuro, tucking Furihata in his bed and taking off his shoes. “Just ridiculously high on pain meds.”

Furihata grumbles but snuggles in his bed more. He had the best roommates, he decides. 

Then tongues the cavity again. It feels strange. His tooth just came off. Sliced right off by the dentist he had been trying not to see for three weeks. A wisdom tooth, the scary man had said. He didn’t mention how his tongue would be ………tonguing….yeah that was the word……maybe Himuro would know better…..anyway! Tonguing the gap all the time. There. One coherent sentence. He wasn’t drunk. Maybe Takao was. Anyway!

“I never had tooth fairies come for me, ya know?” 

Takao and Himuro, just a step away from shutting Furi’s door, sighed again. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” Furihata yawned. His blanket was smelling good. Fresh. His pillow still had that spot of his drool from last night, but it was his favourite pillow so he knew he would be sleeping better. Sleep. Sleep sounded nice. He yawned again. “I am gonna put this one under my pillow.”

“Furi, you are 25.”

Furihata frowned. “The tooth fairy doesn’t know that.” 

He moved, shuffling in better and placing the tooth on his bed. He closed his eyes, shutting his roommates and the world out, a smile on his lips. 

Maybe tonight, a tooth fairy might come. 

*

“-unbelievable-”

“-Kuroko never talked about this-”

“-he practically looks like a teenager, the nerve of some people-”

“-I could be gifting children around the world but _no_ I had to come here to a fucking teenager’s house for a wisdom teeth, a wisdom teeth of all things-”

“-not even a molar, a fucking wisdom teeth, the sheer disrespect-”

Furihata shuffled, rubbed his eyes and sat up. 

And blinked many times to vanish the scene in front of him. 

Because this cannot be happening.

A redheaded angel - a fuming redheaded angel, he corrected - was pacing angrily near his bed with feathery wings flashing bright silver as the moonlight hit them or flashing in response to the grumblings issuing non stop-

what?

“Um….?”

Apparently the wrong approach. 

The redhead whirled, wings flashing dramatically - okay so that was an effect, wow angels are dramatic, Furihata thought sagely. Perhaps he really was drunk. 

“Oh so you finally decided to grace me with your presence.”

Furihata gaped, “What?”

“Tell me, how old are you? Are you really below the age of 12? How did you subvert the sacred clause? Hmm?”

The voice was deadly calm. Like silk yet deadl…..ier.

Furihata got reminded of his mom when she found out the candy stock for her PMS had been effectively raided by her two sons. No mother was more pissed if she missed out on candy when dealing with ……….woman problems. 

Ok, so this had to be dealt with carefully. Extremely carefully. 

“Excuse you, its not my fault you never visited me when I was a kid and now you got stuck to get my wisdom tooth when I fucking 25!”

Silence reigned. 

“You are……25? As in…….quarter of a _century_ old?” 

The voice did, in fact, get impossibly calmer and deadlier. 

Okay maybe that wasn’t the brightest approach.

He sighed, shifted his pillows and held out the tooth, “Look man, here. Take the tooth, give me the money. In fact, you know what. Don’t give me money. What the fuck will I do with 1 yen anyway. And get out my room. Or fly out. I dunno. Whatever.”

The redhead’s jaw clenched. “You, pitiful human, have just trespassed the laws of the Angel Sanctuary that has protected the innocence of children since time. You have, albeit accidentally, summoned me, Akashi Seijuro, the Head Tooth Fairy of the Tokyo Region, and you dare sit there and tell me - no, not tell, _Order_ me, _Me!_ \- to do your bidding. I shall not stand for it.”

And then commenced the staring match. 

Furihata has had many fights on this with his elder brother and his mother to know that unless its his mother, he doesn’t really stand a chance of losing. 

But Akashi put up a good fight though. 

That had to be said. 

Akashi sniffled, blinked his eyes and moved to poise himself on the sill, intending to fly out. 

Out of the mediocre, boring life of Furihata Kouki. 

Without taking his wisdom tooth. 

“You know what,” Furihata blurted, making Akashi turn his head, “Why don’t you stay for coffee? I am pretty hungry so I can whip up some sandwiches for both of us.”

Do angels eat sandwiches? Do they eat flowers and apples or that sort you see in those paintings? Furihata and his roommates weren’t big on fruits. More meat and sweets filled their fridge. Oh. Maybe angels ate sweets. They were supposed to be sweet, right? Except for this one, obviously. 

“Coffee? You think your plebeian drink would be for the likes of me? Anything less than nectar doesn’t cut it, human.” Akashi lifted his nose in the air, yet moved with Furihata to walk down the stairs, tucking his wings around himself. 

“Oh. Perhaps, tea then.” Furihata smiled agreeably. 

If he indeed was drunk, this wasn’t exactly a nightmare he would be embarrassed about in the morning.

Akashi grunted quite humanly behind him. 

Furihata noted he hadn’t objected to tea. 


	96. Akafuri and Masashi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> akafuri + "biggest dramatic thing niri has been able to write ever"  
>  it was just akafuri for the ask but drama is the akashi family motto so masashi had to be done.

Akashi Seijuro had everything.

He had a father he respected and who respected him in return. 

He had a mother he loved unconditionally and who loved him for everything he was, pricks and thorns included. 

He had - a true blessing from the gods - a partner he cherished until he could not imagine a life worth living without him. 

He could see it in his mind’s eye; the dances in the ballroom where his mother hosted her parties and danced with her husband. Masaomi with a smile that reached his eyes, twirling Shiori on the dance floor with just instincts for footwork. Easy as a breeze and love pouring from their gazes enough to blind the others. 

Akashi would then pluck Shiori out of his father’s arms with just a smirk directed at Masaomi and would sweep her off her feet, basking in her surprised laughter. He would watch Masaomi snort before snatching up Kouki and engage in a tango that left their audience in tears of laughter. 

And he could see them all, so _so_ clearly that he ached from the beauty of it, laughing together in one big hug in the center of the hall, among their friends and family, under the sparkling chandelier, with all the joy in the world. 

They would be happy. 

They would be _perfect_. 

Because.

Akashi Seijuro had everything he could possibly ask for. 

Until one day he didn’t.

*

They say time heals wounds. 

They say that you forget the pain with time. 

Well. 

They couldn’t be more wrong. 

“You think you can waltz in here with a mongrel you picked off the streets and you thought I would let you get away with it?”

“You have the pick of men from our social circles, who are powerful connected and beneficial to our name and respect our command and the status we hold in the society and you bring in a - what?- A filthy rag from the dirtiest slum you could find and thought we would be okay with it? Okay with your choice when it affects us all?!”

“You have disappointed me, Seijuro.”

“I have respected you. I have respected and taken pride at the man you were, who you turned into and today I am ashamed to call myself your father.”

“I will give you one chance.”

“It’s either us, your family, your heritage, your future, your legacy that raised you, that nurtured you, that cared for you or that filthy mutt you dared to let it set foot on our grounds.”

Shiori stands rooted to the spot. Frozen and broken as she watches her husband give the ultimatum to her boy, her sweet innocent boy. She watches Seijuro’s heart break into shards, as everything around, everything he holds dear, falls apart in front of him. 

Her prince had done no mistakes. 

He had just fallen in love. 

What could possibly be wrong with that?

Her little boy had done no wrong in her eyes. 

But she is forced to watch, forced to endure seeing the pain - the excruciating pain - on her prince’s face as he gets up from his _dogeza_ on the floor and wipe the tears that do not seem to stop flowing.

She watches her boy grit his teeth and turn away from his father, never meeting his eyes, nodding as though this was final and done with and move towards the door where his beloved stood. 

_NO!_ , her heart screamed against her chest, but she held herself strong; she wasn’t going to break now, her son needed her to be strong, while she watched her family, her carefully built close knit family fall apart before her eyes. 

Kouki - that was the name of the boy was, the boy who had managed to capture her prince’s heart, thaw the ice and made him human, her prince’s chosen one - wasted no second in gathering Seijuro in his arms, hugging him close and kissing away his tears. 

Not a word, not a squeak, not a hitch or hiccup was heard in the room that day. 

Seijuro’s soundless tears fall endlessly as Kouki joined in, gripping themselves in a hold that neither wanted to break - they only had each other, they were going to have only each other from now on, her heart raged at her, pushing her to do _something_ , to do _any_ thing that could somehow soothe the pain - the terrible gut wrenching pain - of watching Seijuro walk out of here. 

“Very well.”

“You are no longer a part of this family.”

“I suggest you see yourself out. Don’t bother coming back.”  

Ice in her veins, tongue stuck in her throat, fists clenched white in the knuckles, Shiori watches her son and his lover steel themselves visibly before walking slowly out the door and out of her life. 

Not looking back even once. 

*

Kouki is strong for many reasons. 

He is strong because he has to be. 

He is strong because that was what people asked him to be, as they attended the funeral of his parents and shook his hands and gave him consoling hugs, when he was just 11.

He is strong because he had to watch his uncle, his godfather, his only living relative, his lovable _oji-san!_ drive the car a little too fast, spin a little too much and crash a little too hard when he was 19. The gods hadn’t loved him enough to take him away too that day. 

He is strong because he has Akashi. Akashi who had befriended him, who teased him, flirted with him with the most god awful pick up lines that made him snort into the pillow at night, who made him fall in love again, fall in love with love again, and who caught him when he fell. 

He is strong because he was all Akashi had too. He hadn’t known. Akashi hadn’t known. By the look on her face, the beautiful red-haired woman - who so resembled Akashi that it broke his heart at not being able to reach her and comfort her - hadn’t known. He watched Akashi, his headstrong, steady as a mountain even under the pressure of a hundred storms Akashi, break that day. 

And he vowed to himself, that he would be strong for his husband until he could afford to be weak again. Or until he could no longer remember a time where he wasn’t strong. 

And, it was because of this - also due to too many years passing with too much regret that he does something. Something that was going to prove how weak he was. Something he wouldn’t be able to recover from if it turned out the other way. Something which could very well tear his family apart - his tiny family of him and his loving husband - and never be able to heal. 

But. 

He decides to be weak just one time. 

And tries to patch up something that had been torn for far too long. 

*

It has been too long. 

Ten years too long. 

A day doesn’t go by without thinking of his parents. 

A moment doesn’t go by when he wishes he could share his joy with them. With his family. What it once was. 

Seijuro has Kouki. 

Kouki was his world. His center. The gravity that pulled him to stay firm on the ground and not float away, whittle away into nothingness. 

He feels blessed to have Kouki. Its all the family he has. 

But its not the only family he wants. 

He knows its hopeless, selfish and fruitless.

But he hopes. 

No matter how much he vehemently tries to act as though everything is fine, there is a torch in him that holds steadfast. 

To the future that will be.

To fulfill the dream that he saw. 

Ten years haven’t been able to extinguish the light in him. 

Ten years of success, of making a name for himself from scratch, begging and thriving on friends and contacts and words of mouth, to the standard, to the status that he and Kouki slogged to bring themselves up to today, hasn’t been able to disillusion his fickle torch lit in his heart. 

Until he feels to torch sear, flames flare up and blaze every nerve ending, licking and stroking every vein in his body, razing everything with emotions that have been bottled for far far too long, spilling them endlessly from his eyes as he sees his mother stand before him.

He is hesitant to take a step and reach out. It must be an apparition. A hallucination caused by too much workload. 

He stays firm where he stands, convincing himself of the improbability. 

Until the apparition moves closer and closer.

Until it is too close to not be true. Not be real. Not be what he has wanted to touch for many, many years. 

“Mother……”

*

Shiori loved her husband. 

He handled his family the same way he handled his business.

With a firm and nurturing hand. 

Her husband’s words were final. Binding. Irrevocable. 

And she respected it. 

Because he was right, loving and caring and most of all, just. 

Until one day he wasn’t. 

It was wrong. 

The decision to exile Seijuro was wrong. 

The decision to deprive him from his family was wrong. 

The judgement that made Seijuro a near orphan that day was wrong. 

The disrespect doled out to the newest, possibly the most kindest member of the family, their Seijuro’s chosen love was wrong. 

Treating him like a stain on the rug was wrong. 

Year after year of forbidding contact was wrong.

Year after year of waiting hopelessly, living like a shell, an empty hollowed soul was wrong. 

“Our son, my prince, our blood has come back to us.”

“After so many years, after ten terrible lonely years, he could see us today.”

“All because of the efforts of his husband. Our son-in-law. My new son.”

“If that isn’t love, I fail to see what is.”

“The principles you hold dear, the status that you care about, the heritage that you fear to let down, what is their use when they make you throw out your own son, your own blood out on the streets to fend for itself?”

“Do those principles, those standards, that legacy you talk about, bring you joy? Do those hold you close when you feel alone? Can they be a suitable replacement for the family you threw away?”

“I thought my husband was God. But God does not make mistakes.”

“You are not my God, anymore.”

*

Masaomi held himself up without crying through sheer will power. 

Too much. 

He has held himself in too high an esteem, too high a pedestal, too long a time, that the wreckage had been deadly. 

The stature that he had, the power that he commanded, the joy that he held close had crumbled like a house built of cards. 

An ego too strong had been enough to take away, tear away everything he loved from him and leave him open, helpless and bleeding. 

But he can never show that. 

He watched his wife retreat further into her shell day by day, he saw himself helpless to stop it. 

Everything has been already done. 

He cannot let himself get hurt by anyone again. 

But Shiori, his Shiori who never spoke against him, delivered a blow powerful enough for him to keel over. 

Ten years. It had taken ten years for the son-in-law, the one he had so carelessly discarded, to dredge up the courage to reach out to them.

He, if he had known, which he did not and had to credit the cleverness of his son-in-law, - _of course_ his Seijuro would choose a person matching him wit for wit, word for word; what else could he have expected - world have stopped the union from happening. 

Thank the gods for gifting him a sly son-in-law.

He would rather die than ever say it out loud. 

Its time he decided. 

it was time he acted once again the way he wanted to. 

And not the way he had thought himself of, the ego that had shattered that day ten years ago had disillusioned everything. 

Keeping whatever he had held in high regard and losing everything that was truly precious was not the way he wanted to live anymore. 

He wanted his family back. 

He wanted his Shiori, his Seijuro and welcome the sly Kouki into their fold. 

He wanted laughter, joy and happiness in the house.

He wanted to feel alive again. 

“How could you think you don’t matter to me?”

“How could you think I don’t love you?”

“I have loved you, from the tiny baby you were, from the boy who played basketball for the first time, to the stellar man you grew up to be.”

“I have always loved you. I have never said those words to you, I couldn’t. I could just not get those words out. I tried to show in so many ways.”

“Not once. Not once did you look back. Not once did you call. Not once.”

“Seijuro, Seijuro my boy. My prince.”

“I love you.”

*

Akashi Seijuro had everything. 

He watched his father engage in a tango with the giggling Kouki. His father’s mouth was clamped around a rose stem. When he dipped Kouki and winked mischievously, Kouki lost it. Laughing and snorting he hugged Masaomi, who was unable to avoid the infectious laughter. 

It had been a while since he saw his father throw his head and laugh with whole body like that. 

A clearing of throat refocused his attention to the lady in his arms. 

His mother smiled back at him, eyes alight with wisdom, knowing exactly what he had been thinking. As always. 

He tipped his chin to kiss her forehead and felt her tighten her arms around him.

It was just a momentary spasm. But held a memory far too strong. 

It had taken time, yes. 

it had taken ten full years, yes. 

It had taken the sly working of his clever husband, yes. 

But the torch had been right all along. 

His dream had come true. 

Akashi Seijuro had everything he could possibly ask for.

Today and everyday from now on. 


	97. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> furirikey on tumblr requested
> 
> Akafuri + jealousy!  
> this took a very cracky turn in my head and i am totally at blame for this   
> oh my god i turned a nice enough prompt into LOL NOT THE WAY IT WAS REQUESTED SORRY FURIRIKEY

Furihata plopped down on the sofa, sighing as he craned his neck against the back rest, a sated smile on his face. 

He felt the couch dip as Akashi sat next to him, tucking his legs under his knees and placing a book comfortably on his lap. The mugs of hot chocolate were on the coffee table in front of them, coasters beneath them. Furihata snorted. Five years of living with Akashi since college and still the guy uses coasters. 

“Akashi.”

“Hmm.” A page turn. 

“Akashiiii.” Furihata twisted his body sideways to face him fully. Akashi’s glasses were once again sliding down his nose. 

“What is it, Kouki?” Akashi looked up. He pushed the glasses back up his nose where they rested slightly crooked. Furihata had told him multiple times. “ _Get the glasses corrected.” “There is nothing wrong with the glasses, Kouki. I can see perfectly well, thank you.” “Your ears are probably not aligned properly. Get the frames adjusted a little. They would do it for free. Just go.” “Kouki, thank you but I don’t need to go to an eye clinic right now.”_  

Let it never be said straight to Akashi’s face that there was an aspect of him that wasn’t perfect. 

Middle school events apart. 

The cold shoulder for the ear comment last three days. 

Apology in Post-Its hadn’t cut it. He had had to call Nijimura - Akashi’s Kryptonite. Mother Planet. Whatever. - for help. 

Furihata shudders just thinking about that event. 

“Kuroko told me this game they were playing.”

................And Akashi returned his gaze back to the book. “Mhm.”

Furihata inched close. “It’s fun if you think about it.”

“Mhm.” Another page turn. “I am sure it is.” The velvet tone couldn’t get more bored than this. 

Furihata sighed dramatically. “And I thought, we could play too.” He dipped his chin low and peered up at Akashi from beneath his lashes, blinking innocently.

It worked. 

Well, obviously. 

Akashi put down the book, took off his glasses and crossed his fingers on his lap, giving Furihata his full attention. “Go on.”

Furihata grinned. “Ok so. It’s a game called Fuck, Marry. Kill.”

Akashi deadpanned. “Really.”

“Shhh. So. I get to say three names and ask you whom of those you would Fuck. Or Marry. Or Kill.”

“ _Really._ ”

“Yes really. Now shut up and answer.”

“Wait, when did it become your turn?”

“Since, I told you the game. Duh.”

“I never agreed to this.”

“Yes you did. When I asked you, you said ‘Go on’. That’s implied acceptance.”

“.....I should not have taught you legal terms.”

Furihata grinned wider. “Your mistake. Anyway! My turn. So. Fuck, Marry, Kill. Kuroko, Me and Mayuzumi-san. Go.”

Akashi barely batted an eye. “Marry you. Kill Tetsuya. Fuck Chihiro, though I truly do not ever want to. Even under the threat of death, no thank you.”

“Awwww, Akashi, that was super sweet. But why do you not like Mayuzumi-san? He is fun to be with. Sarcasm on point.”

“Exactly. If I make even one mistake in bed, I would be ridiculed for life. No, thank you. I prefer........learning....with you.”

“Akashiiii!” Furihata places himself firmly on top of the blushing Akashi, wrapping his arms around his lover’s shoulders and kisses him fully. “That was so sappy, you fool.” It was true, though. They had mapped out each other’s bodies over the years so much that they were more aware of the other’s pleasure than their own. It had taken months of stumbling, fumbling against the gym lockers in third year high school, to the desperate love hotel trysts in college to the slow, passionate, fun, laughing, tickling, teasing, instinctual, magnetic sex they had now. 

Furihata pulled out of the kiss, “Oh wait. Why kill Kuroko? He is like.....he is, wow.....he is like a brother to me. And he is your best friend!”

Akashi sighed, tightening his arms around Furihata and pulling him closer and wishing they could go back to kissing anytime soon. “Firstly, he is not my best friend, you are. He is the friend I have the terrible misfortune of being close to and don’t want to fuck. Truth be told, I personally like Kagami better but if you say this to Kuroko, I will deny it with my dying breath. And secondly, kill Kuroko because he taught you this game and now it is what we are talking about instead of doing other....creative learning activities.”

Furihata leered, “Oh~ what learning did you have in mind?”

Akashi tipped his chin down until there was only a sliver of space between their lips, “Get your clothes off and let’s find out~” 


	98. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> akafuri + Ancient Magus's Bride AU
> 
> this was fun to do. I haven't read the manga but I TOTALLY fell in love with the plot.   
> ITS UP THERE ON MY READING LIST NOW!

“I don’t have anywhere else to go.” Furihata states calmly.

And it was true. 

The home he had, taken. 

The family he had, destroyed.

There was nothing left for him in this world. 

Except his magic. 

Which was draining him of whatever life he had left to live, as it chose. 

He doesn’t remember the last time he had smiled. 

The last time he felt alive. 

“I don’t have a home.” Furihata says to the Agency. “Place me in Slavery.”

*

The Devil takes him in. 

Furihata is surprised to find a redheaded stranger in a black suit, roughly his age, stand in front of a limo, holding the door open for Furihata to get in.

Ah, his new buyer. He should call him Owner or Master, he supposed. The Agency he had sold himself to six months ago had had no one to ask about him, bid for him. They had almost given up hope and were about to ask him to be a Slave for themselves. But today, he was going to be whisked away to do whatever his new Master bid him to. 

He entered the car and shifted to let his Master sit next to him.

And got subjected to a long scrutiny that lasted merely a few minutes but felt like a lifetime as the car zoomed along the roads.

Apparently his new Master had X-ray vision, he snickered inwardly.

“It’s not X-ray vision, it’s a common Innocence Charm.”

He swiveled his neck to look in horror at the guy beside him. 

“You needn’t be so surprised. I just merely evaluated your magical levels.” The redhead’s mouth turned a delicate frown, tilting his head slightly, “You haven’t been taking proper care of yourself, have you, Furihata Kouki?” 

Furihata folded his hands in his lap and answered calmly as practiced. Just because the guy knew he had magic did not he would lose his shit. “I have been fed and take care of by the Agency. It is common knowledge that a Slave should be maintained at efficient performance levels to reap lasting benefits.”

“You are not a mere Slave.” The voice was steely. Furihata looked up. The redhead breathed deep through his nose and stared at him, “Not anymore.”

“And anyone with eyes can tell that you have been totally and brutally deprived of any form of magical healing. Your continuous use of your powers have led to the decrease of your life expectancy to devastating levels. What were you thinking? That the use of magic has no consequences? That you could get away with it?”

Furihata stared blankly. “…..So, I have less time left? And how much is it, exactly?”

“It’s hard to say but I would guess no more than three years to your mortal life.”

“Oh.”

Silence reigned, heavy and pregnant. 

Furihata didn’t know what to feel. He didn’t think it was a bad or a good thing. He didn’t have anyone who were dependent on him or would miss him if he was gone. He didn’t have a job or a life ambition or something of a bucket list that he had to finish. He was pretty much getting to being okay with having just three more years, when the man spoke up. 

“Which is why I am here.”

The car had stopped in front of a mansion of a house, its grounds stretching far beyond the range of vision and a towering palace stood in its midst, imposing and ancient. Furihata had a sinking feeling that he would get lost in its maze by the end of the evening. 

The man got out and held out a hand for Furihata. He was pretty sure Masters shouldn’t do that to Slaves. He looked at him quizzically. 

“Pardon me for not introducing myself before. I am Akashi Seijuro, the Devil. And this, is my Lair.” He leaned close to Furihata. “And you, Furihata Kouki are no slave of mine. I am merely interested in your magical abilities and wish to heal you to live a longer life.”

Furihata gaped, and then his mind registered what the man - the whatever - said, “I am a battery for you? For some other purpose you could use me for? How is that any different than a Slave?”

Akashi chuckled and …..transformed. The redheaded man before him grew taller, black robes swirling around him and the skin starting to wear off, leaving a skeletal structure with horns on the head and tiny red flames burning behind the eye sockets. 

Furihata blinked up at him. So he really was the Devil. The one he had read about in his childhood, stories his mother used to tell to ward off nightmares. Devil was supposed to be impartial. He was just and exact and did his duty. He brought balance to imbalances in the society. That was what his mother used to say. 

Facing him right now, he didn’t know whether his mother really knew him or had just heard of him. After all, she had been gifted too. 

Akashi reached forward and took one of Furihata’s hand in his skeletal ones. They were bones. They were supposed to be cold and impassive. Yet they felt warm in his. 

“I do not have any use for you, Furihata Kouki. I already have everything and if I lack something, I am quite capable of fulfilling it by myself. Self sustaining is one of the powers I am bestowed with. 

Yet, I see you, a young mortal who is gifted far beyond what he has hereto forth uncovered, foolishly wasting away his life, using his powers with no care at all. I do not know if you were that eager to see me, but I, do not wish for your soul to pass without you living your life fully yet.” 

Furihata sighed. His hands were still in the Devil’s and he was staring at him, boring a hole through him, silently pleading him to accept the healing. 

And it wasn’t like he had anything else to do. 

“Fine. I will stay. I will let you heal me.”

“Wonderful! Now come along, I will show you to your rooms. You can rest for a while now and then we can have tea in the gardens later. The dogs are excited to meet you. I have planned a list of activities-” The Devil sure seemed chirpy as he glided up the staircase, Furihata jogging to keep up with him. 

“Oh wait, what shall I call you? If you are not my Master, then…..?”

Akashi stopped. Furihata nearly smacked into him.

“……You can call me Seijuro.” The voice was quiet, but Furihata noted a break in it somewhere. Anxiety? That was interesting.

Seijuro turned, fixing Furihata with an indescribable look, “I shall call you Kouki.”

He sounded important, as if defying Furihata to refute it. 

Furihata grinned. “Okay, Seijuro.”

He watched those shoulders visibly relax before Seijuro spoke up again. “And we are….what do you call that….when a group of mortals who work together for a common goal…?”

“…..A team?”

“Yes! That’s it! That’s the word! We are a team, Kouki. You and me.” Seijuro was beaming at him. “Oh, and what is that word for the thing they have? Camaraderie but better? Something closer than that?”

“A friendship?”

“Yes! We shall be Friends from this day forth. You are not a Slave, I am not your Master, we share a Friendship.” Seijuro stated before he suddenly looked unsure, “Will you be my Friend, Kouki?”

Furihata felt positively gobsmacked by now. A fearsome monster that even the other Gods were supposedly slightly scared of, the stuff of nightmares for little children was standing in front of him, offering him shelter and a friendship and was excited to have tea with him. 

It was laughable.

It was _hilarious_.

It was the sweetest thing ever.

He stepped close and hugged Seijuro, burying his face in the thick cloak, “Yes I will.”

And that sealed his fate. 

For the better. 


	99. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS NEARLY 4000 WORDS IN 2 HOURS WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK-  
> Pride and Prejudice AU. Frankenstein AU. FUSION.  
> It works okay. it just does.  
> Oh, and, Fluff.  
> Cus I am a sappy shit.

“You can’t possibly waste away your life, living in this-this _hovel!_ of a place!”

Furihata paid no mind. He continued to read his book, lounging casually as you please, on the decadent furniture ripped at the seams.

“I am talking to you! You are to respond to me! Have you no proper manners? Were you raised by wolves?”

Furihata paused. He looked up, and in the most bored and unaffected voice he could muster, he drawled, “Yes, now why don’t you run off and tattle to Mother.” A smirk formed on his lips as he gazed coolly at his sister. “Isn’t that what you always want to do?”

A gasp, a huff and a “Well, I never!” and then some furious stomping before the door slammed hard followed his rebuke.

His smirk grew as he returned his attention back to the book on his lap.

*

“I don’t want to go here anymore.”

“Go where?” Takao whispered from the corner of his mouth, glancing at their professor who was droning on monotonously, clearly as uninterested as his students about the subject, and back to the book he was doodling on the margins of.

Furihata peered at the sketch. Detailed shading and lining of a Bengal tiger. He raised an impressed eyebrow. Takao must be really bored. 

“Go here. Classes. School. University.”

“What?!” Takao nearly snapped his neck to look at Furihata. He whisper-yelled, “Are you _mad?_ You are quitting?!”

Furihata shrugged nonchalantly, “I could be doing other fruitful things than wasting my time on mediocrity.”

Takao sneered, “Oh pray tell, whatever those other life enriching things are, O Learned One.”

“You shall see.” Furihata closed his eyes and leaned back on the bench. He stretched his legs under the table and crossed them at the ankles. He lifted his hands behind his head and interlinked his fingers, cushioning his head against them. The deliberate pose of leisure and confidence. “You shall all see.”

*

_I am sure this is unethical._

_But it is for the greater good.  
_

_I am most_ certainly _sure_ _this is unethical._

His mind wars in his head. It’s throbbing; thoughts whirring like bees in a hive. He doesn’t have to do this. He doesn’t necessarily have to prove to anyone that he is better than them.

He knows he is.

Obviously.

Still.

His mother won’t keep her mouth shut anymore. Any more talk of “lack of grandchildren in old age” and “disappointments that she had had to bear for nine months to bring upon this wide Earth” and “what will their esteemed neighbors say when they catch wind that our oldest son has such questionable, abhorrent, intolerable proclivities!” would make him want to run away to the New Lands.

Not that his father would object.

Or his darling sister, who would just be too happy to simper and play coy and bat her eyelashes to gain the attentions of Mother.

No.

He was not going to run.

He was a scientist. A visionary in his own right.

And above all else, a free man who liked his own gender better.

And he would prove his bias did not mar his genius.

*

_To obtain something you have to lose something in equal proportion._

_That was the first rule of alchemy._

He had had failures. He had, nearly, had his life taken away. Bringing back something to life after it has left the mortal world was a violation of the highest order.

“You are mad, Furi! This cannot happen! What were you _thinking?_  Were you thinking at all?! Stop this madness and come back to class.”

“It is unnatural, Furihata. You are breaking the Code. You _never_ break the Code. Fusing or reconstructing a deconstructed product is different than this. You _know_ this. Then why....?”

“Just as well to see you falling apart at this dump. Did you know, Mother handed me a new set of pearls for the Ball this weekend? They are wonderful, aren’t they? Do you happen to even have clean clothes or are you still wearing what you wore when you stormed out of our house? Oh, pardon me. My family house?”

But he would not give up. 

 

Nearly two years into holing himself up like a hermit in his cottage on the far side of town, away from his nosy sister and materialistic mother, away from the disappointed eyes of his friends and professors at the University, he had finally found his calling.

He would bring his subject to life and he would succeed in it. He would bypass all the rules, regulations and laws and be a pioneer in this taboo part of Alchemy.

This was what his genius was made for.

This was his biggest, grandest endeavor.

His legacy.

*

“Erm……Hello?” Furihata tried really hard to sound better than that. It was still a croak at best. He was scared, terrified and numb at the same time.

But he had been _successful_.

 

He had gathered the bodies. He had dug back up the freshly dug graves to carve out the parts he needed from the corpses. The rotting flesh and the dirty bones and the oozing blood and the wet mud was the stench he had become accustomed to. He had dug and dug and dug and brought back the parts of the bodies to his cottage. 

Discarding and reattaching and envisioning and discarding again, he had painstakingly stitched them up together. Flesh and bones and skin. The needle was strong and his grip was firm as the thread wove in and out of the decaying skin, holding it firmly together.

He kept the skin fresh, the flesh paused in their decay through potions and oils he could concoct on his own, preserving the body in its current state for as long as possible. He hoped against hope that he wouldn’t have to wait too long to be done. His time was running out. His luck was running out. He could feel it.

He had worked tirelessly, like a frenzied man possessed by a demon, on this body. This particular body. 

The finished subject had been laid on the table. His experiment looked like a man of his age, matted and muddy red hair on his scalp, dull red irises that held no light, pale skin of a dancer.

Furihata had been careful, more than careful. He had done everything he could. Now it was left to the Gods. 

He could feel his victory closing in on him. 

There was heavy rain that evening. There was thunder and lightning and their booming power threatening the windows of his cottage.

He could almost taste his victory.

And that was when lightning had struck, blasting away part of the roof and attacking the table with its staggering strength. His spine chilled as the body slowly lifted off the table and swiveled in air, absorbing the energy from the skies.

Windows shattered, tables and chairs tumbled and skittered to bash themselves against the walls. Furihata crouched behind near the fireplace as the walls trembled, threatening to explode, and the body still circled in the air as the beam of light struck it repeatedly. Rain pelted everywhere outside the cottage, angry howling cries to drown the roar of thunder and yet the room was blinded by the light.

It was over too soon.

 

Time was still. Time was ticking. Furihata sat frozen where he was. His cottage was in shambles, his roof blown, whatever was left of it was pitiful in the cover they provided, the pillar supports naked and wrecked, and the body……

The body was lying still on the table.

But it was not lying still like before. Not dead-still. Sort of, like, meditation-still, Furihata fumbles in his thinking. His mind is recovering faster than his own body. His nerves were shot but his brain is cataloging everything that happened.

There was no going back. This was it. He had to have done it. If the power of the Gods couldn’t do it, he was as good as dead. Or mediocre. He didn’t know which was worse. 

He thought of reaching out, standing up and examining. His frozen state was responding too feebly to the screaming commands of his mind.

He needn’t have bothered.

For the redhaired man on the table had woken up and was sitting and looking straight at him.

*

“Akashi, can you give me that?” Furihata instructed, his papers lying scattered on the table and his glasses slipping down his nose. 

Akashi moved the sofa nearer to the fireplace before handing Furihata his coffee, “This tastes vile. Why do you have it? Tea is more palatable.”

Furihata smirked, “I know. But this keeps me awake.” He frowned at his writing and corrected it before turning around on his chair.

Akashi Seijuro shifted the arm chair and fluffed up the cushions - the right way, as instructed by _Proper Etiquette for Every Respectable Household_ , which he insisted on reading despite Furihata’s constant protests - before settling in, legs stretched and crossed at the ankles and his clothes a bit tight for his frame. Furihata made note to buy him more clothes next time they went to the market.

His cup of Darjeeling Tea awaited Akashi on the table next to the book with its bookmark intact. He looked relaxed and at peace as he stared into the fire.

The man who was not to be.

The man who was unnatural and an abomination.

The man whom Furihata brought to life three years ago.

 

It had understandably taken a while. Furihata may have had no compunctions with breaking rules but there was bone-chilling fear radiating through every nerve in his body when Akashi had woken up.

He had thought he had created a monster.

He couldn’t be more wrong.

It had taken months to make him talk on his own and not imitate Furihata all the time. He had taken to following Furihata everywhere; in the end, it turned out to be safer than leaving him to his own devices.

Akashi - that was the name he had chosen for himself after a lengthy debate - was smart. He was smarter than Furihata. He was probably smarter than their whole class, Furihata estimated. He picked up on things quickly, especially vocal and body language cues to convey what he wanted.

He could convey more with just a glance than a twenty word sentence. It was frightening. It was thrilling. Furihata didn’t pay attention to the thrilling part. 

 

“For first names……what would you want it to be?” Furihata had sat on the floor, the patched-up rug providing little comfort.

Akashi was silent as usual. He didn’t talk much, choosing to observe and respond only when direly necessary. Furihata liked having a silent companion. It was a nice change to the outspoken and brazen and talkative people he had had his entire life. He was beginning to crave Akashi’s company more than anybody else. He refused to pay attention to that detail. “Go on.”

“Shintarou? That’s my friend’s name and he is very smart, just like you!”

Akashi stared.

“Okay, maybe not. How about, Sei? It means excellence. How does that sound?”

Akashi hummed thoughtfully and looked up. And nodded. “Seijuro. Akashi Seijuro.”

“Akashi Seijuro it is.” Furihata grinned, all his teeth showing, extending his hand, “Hi, I am Furihata Kouki. Let’s be friends.”

Akashi looked at the hand and the grin that was stretched on Furihata’s face. He felt it mirror on his own as he clamped his fingers over Furihata’s in a sure grip, “Friends.”

*

Akashi quickly learned to brew potions and drinks and liquids and certain drugs that could keep his body alive and his skin looking healthy. The stitches were near invisible now, after nearly three years of his new life. Kouki had been a novice inventor and a terrible tailor when he had sewn his organs together. But it had made to. 

He walked and roamed and explored the world outside of the tiny cottage, adjusting to life as a human, as a friend of Kouki who had come from far away - a convenient story for the nosy questions - and who did not know the local traditions.

His life, his existence was because of Kouki. He owed it to him, for however long it turned out to be. He wasn’t immortal, he knew. His life was through dead flesh and bones and it would feed and rot and decay soon. But he could control the decay as long as he wanted. And wanted to serve Kouki till then.

He knew he was an experiment, a live subject meant to be examined by people who were other than Kouki and more nosier and ruder than any human had any right to be, with their invasive questions and prejudices and horror of the unknown, which in this case was him, the walking horror.

But he could stand all that. With Kouki by his side, he would.

 

“This cannot bloody be happening!” Kouki stormed into the house, their house, and slammed the door, its hinges protesting. “I cannot _believe_ the nerve of that woman!”

He slumped onto the sofa, pulling a cushion and placing it over his face and screaming into it. Akashi watched from the tiny kitchen, his tea in hand and a French translation book for beginners in the other.

“What happened this time?” He took a sip, and frowned. It tasted different. Funny. He and Kouki prepared the same way - Kouki was the one who had taught him and let him find his own taste - but it tasted better when Kouki made it. He decided not to ponder too much over that detail.

“My mother happened.” As if that were all the explanation needed. 

And it was.

Despite the phenomenal success Furihata Kouki had become in the field of Alchemy, laurels and accolades showering on him everywhere he went, his own family had been displeased about the yet uncertain marital status of their son. Akashi had never exactly met them but from the stories he had heard, he could very much like to scorn them. And would love to. With glee. And finesse.

Akashi sat next to Kouki on the sofa, pulling Kouki’s legs over his lap and running a comforting hand over them. Kouki simpered.

“Oh, _daaaahling,_ you would _not_ believe what happened!” Kouki started in a falsetto, imitating his mother, Akashi supposed. He hid his grin behind his cup. “Your sister met this _incredible_ match and look! They own half of bloody Kyoto! Of _course,_ that is more than enough reason to pack away your sister and sell her off like the cow she is, but, of _course,_ I have only _her_ welfare in mind and, of _course,_ I do not plan to beg shamelessly for dowry and make use of their connections to get our, oh so, _irredeemably_ tarnished reputation back on the society pages. 

“Of _course,_ I am proud of that little, erm, uhh, what do you call it, _daahling?_ Experiment, is it? Ah yes, _experiment!_ That one that made you teeny-tiny bit noticed in our narrow-minded little town, that one where you had that _thing_ paraded around town and called yourself a genius _ha!_ Oh, you little pumpkin, you, a _genius?_ _What a mockery!_  

“Of _course_ , it doesn’t matter anymore since you can now put away your little problem and forget your identity and everything you built for yourself and force yourself into a union with one of the _sisters_ of the _groom!_ Oh, how wonderful it sounds! My two children married off and making babies with God-knows-who, so I can roll around in money and wear expensive gowns and pretend my good-for-nothing son was _never a day gay in his life!”_

Furihata wheezed.

His frustration had been simmering since he heard his mother prattle on and on about the alliance, especially because of her blatant disregard for his tendencies. It had switched to a boiling point when she had belittled his work and reduced him to a pawn that was frankly, in her words, incapable of giving her a grandchild.

He had stood up calmly and left the house that was no longer his, without a single word.

“What is meant by gay? Being merry, is it? And that is.....wrong?”

The question woke him up. He stared at Akashi who was looking at him, an unreadable expression on his face. Curiosity and something else.

He rubbed his face in exhaustion, sitting up, at eye level to Akashi. “No. You are right. But it has a slang meaning these days. Gay is a new, modern word used to address those whose…….attractions lay elsewhere.” He was prevaricating, he knew, but he had to hope Akashi knew by now what he was talking about.

Akashi cocked his head, a slight frown appearing between his brows.

No such luck, apparently.

“Gay is when you are…….attracted to your own gender.” Furihata sighed. Akashi’s brows were lifting. “It means, I am a flaming homosexual and would probably not be able to get it up for any woman at all.”

Akashi looked like he was processing the information. That was one of the many good things about him. He was never shocked. He would stare at anything he didn’t comprehend and would doggedly persist until he did. The extensive libraries they had spent all their time in, in every town they visited for their seminars, had attested to it. He was smart, knowledgeable and modest.

And most of all, able to take things in stride and bend them to will.

He was Furihata’s silent strength.

Furihata would gladly have his life turned over again and again if it meant he were to stay by Akashi’s side.

He feared his feelings were stronger than friendship, slipping into the kind he was defining to Akashi about, but he couldn’t care less.

He loved who he loved.

Undead and probably straight included.

“If I am attracted to you, does it mean I am, gay, as well?”

Furihata was glad he was sitting down for this.

*

Furihata cursed as he fixed his tie. It had become loose again. It was the third time. This evening alone. 

Akashi had gone off earlier. He had had something to do before, an errand he had said, and had vanished. It was disturbing. 

It had been three months since Akashi had come out to him, so plainly as if exclaiming “Oh, it’s Thursday!”, as if he hadn’t swept Furihata’s life cleanly from under his feet. 

And had then gone back to behaving as usual. All inquisitive questions and politeness and openness reserved for Furihata. 

It was frustrating. 

Now, when he had finally obtained a carelessly thrown invitation to his sister’s wedding reception - just the reception, mind, a Ball it was to be and everything - Akashi had sauntered off, leaving Furihata dateless. 

Furihata cursed again, wishing he could abstain from going. But knowing if he did, he would never hear the end of it. It was clearly a choice between Snide Remarks for Life at Every Family Dinner or Arriving at Wedding Without A Date and Refraining From Making A Statement About Being Gay. 

Priorities and all that. 

And so, he had arrived. 

Held the polite, tight-smiled conversation exchanging pleasantries with Mother and his sister and hugging Father comfortably, for a few scant minutes before he wandered off in search for a drink.

He muddled and elbowed his way through the dancing crowd when he was forcibly stopped by someone. 

By Akashi. 

Dressed to the nines and smiling at him like he held a secret. 

Holding out his hand as if for a dance. 

“Sei....?”

“May I have the next dance, Furihata-san?”

Furihata was taken aback and in a daze as he answered, “You may.”

*

“Oh, my _word!_ You should have seen their _faces!”_ Kouki was still laughing, holding his stomach and tears leaking from his eyes as he cried,  _“Priceless!”_

Seijuro beamed, his grin a constant on his face as he watched Kouki, “Would you care for some tea?” He didn’t wait for a reply as he put the kettle on.

Kouki made his way to the small kitchen and swung up and settled himself on the counter. He was flushed still, from laughing, and his breathing was wonky but he was more bewildered by the whole experience than anything. 

He observed Akashi as he set about taking off his dress robes for the evening and carefully folding them, brushing off the creases. 

Akashi had waltzed his way in to the Ball and had swept him off his feet, outing both of them to the entirety of their society in one fell swoop. They had danced, twirled and laughed at the reactions of the shocked crowd around them, not minding the attention the slightest. Puce did not suit the shade of pink his mother and sister turned into, glaring daggers at them both. 

They had taken an early leave, knowing they would be hearing of this little event forever. 

That thought sobered Furihata. “You know, we would have to move from this place, now though, yes?”

Akashi didn’t say anything as he took the kettle and poured the tea into their cups.

“People.....They....are going to be talking about this. For forever. We would have to.....move on. For some quiet.” Furihata clasped and unclasped his fingers on his lap, afraid to look up. He didn’t even know how Akashi felt. What he felt. He couldn’t just presume Akashi to follow him everywhere. Even though he wanted Akashi to. Very much. So much. 

Akashi placed his teacup in his hand and lifted his chin, “I wouldn’t mind going anywhere. If it is with you.”

Furihata gaped. 

“I.....have a confession to make.” Akashi sighed and took a sip of his tea, and grimaced, and put it on the counter before facing Furihata. “I may have been unclear about my intentions previously.”

He looked nervous. And a little afraid, Furihata thought, but didn’t dare to break the silence. This was it. Akashi was going to let him down gently. Say, he was just joking. He was straight, after all. Or, he was gay but didn’t like Furihata that way. Kouki didn’t want to know which would hurt more. 

“Kouki, I may not be what you wanted, as your life partner, but would you give me the chance to be?” Akashi’s eyes pierced Furihata’s with their burning intensity. Flaming red met chocolate brown as they sent a silent plea. 

Furihata choked out a laugh.

He slid off the counter and picked up Akashi’s hands and held them in his. Interlacing their fingers and leaning in, he whispered, “Yes.” 

Akashi’s breath came out in a rush of relief as he placed his forehead against Furihata’s, “Oh thank God. Kouki, I-”

“Oh, we are moving to America,” Kouki continued conversationally, his lips teasing Seijuro’s with every word, “I have heard they are very open about such things there.”

Seijuro picked up the baton easily and grinned, “Then you must allow me the honor of loving you every minute of this new adventure.” And swooped down on the kiss with a blissful sigh. 


	100. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW.  
> 100 CHAPTERS WHOO HOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
> 
> And so, for my 100th addition to this collection of fluff, I would like to add this long ass fantasy stuff that frankly borders on too much appreciation of Akashi's looks and Furihata's wonderfully creative mind and my own love for soulmates. 
> 
> akafuri + Mermaid AU!

Mermaids were vicious. Mermaids were dangerous. Mermaids were very very territorial. They guard the secrets of the Sea. They fight hard and dirty and make a spectacle of those daring predators who had been foolish enough to try thwarting them. There were severed heads and bodies displayed outside the palace as a show of prowess and victory.

They were also instantly suspicious of anyone from the Land who didn’t drown.

That, Furihata hadn’t anticipated.

“Bring him in,” a female voice spoke, soft and commanding at the same time. 

The guards pushed his cage further into the Hall until he was smack dab in front of the Throne. The palace where he had been captured and brought into had been glorious and oozing the riches of eons as old as the Sea. Perhaps older if some stories were to be believed. Furihata had read somewhere that merpeople chose their territories, a decision that altered generations and generations following. They plundered whatever they considered theirs, and the entire Sea bowed to their will. There were stories that were spoken in hushed whispers and songs of crazy old hags that merpeople had been vexed with the rulers of the Land and chose to depart to the Sea forever. But that had been millions of years ago. Nothing to do with his capture merely moments ago. Nothing to do with him being brought to the King of the Seven Seas and his Wise Counsel for “examination”.

It was just sheer thanks to his genetics that he was alive, still.

“What is the matter with him?” The female voice asked, a shade of curiosity painting her tone. She sounded a lot closer than before, Furihata realised. 

“Ahem…..uhhh” The guards looked at each other, hesitant to answer and egging the other to. Their fear was palpable, Furihata sniffed the air around him. But it confused him, why were they scared of him? He wasn’t dangerous. He chose to come to the Sea as an escape and wanted to never invite attention to himself here. Bye bye to that plan, Furihata thought morosely. 

The female cleared her throat once.

“He breathes, Your Highness.” “He smells different than that of a Land dweller. We have never smelled anything like it.” The guards stumbled over themselves to reply and Furihata could imagine them wringing their hands, hoping they wouldn’t lose their jobs or their necks over this. Or both. 

“Hmm.” The voice was definitely closer now, so close to his cage. She had a floral scent to her, Furihata could easily imagine her to be the most beautiful female he would have set his eyes on. But. But, there was something next to her. Something darker, something stronger, something which seemed to  _pull_  him. Something which made the guards uneasy. Furihata bristled internally, waiting to be examined. “Take off his blindfold.”

Furihata gaped and shut his eyes against the brilliant lights inside the Hall and winced harshly. He opened them slowly to find the two guards standing a few feet away from his cage and inching further and further away. The female gave them a wayward nod and they scrambled out of the Hall, fins working furiously.  _Cowards_. He took a deep breath and lifted his chin and turned to face the Royal Assholes, as his friends had once called them.

Red. Gold. And  _beautiful_.

Furihata stared openly. There was a mermaid next to his cage, a dainty finger on her chin as she observed him and she was gorgeous. Furihata awarded himself points for being right about her being the most stunning example of her species. Pink hair and magenta eyes and porcelain skin and cupid bow lips and svelte body and long fins. Every man’s walking dream.

But he spared her barely a glance.

The true  _beauty_ , the actual definition of the word beautiful or in his humble opinion the originator of the word  _itself_  could be attributed to the merman next to her. Regal and posh, lean and vibrating immeasurable energy, all coiled strength and raw power, oozing elegance and authority with just a look, red hair framing his face, pointy nose and arched eyebrows, large, wonderfully crimson, eyes that pierced right into his  _soul_ , red and gold fins that shimmered under the bright palace lights, the merman was……….a sight Furihata would  _willingly_  give his life for.

He blinked. He blinked again.

Wait, what?

Ah. The  _allure_.

The female didn’t affect him. Strange. Merpeople had intense allure but they didn’t affect him. None of the guards had any effect on him either. But the one before him now…….the effect had been  _euphoric_. Furihata blushed and shook himself bodily and turned his face away. But not before catching a gasp and something of a smirk forming on the merman’s -  _beautiful, gorgeous, fucking spectacular_  - features.

“Furihata.  _That_  is your name, isn’t it?” Pink Hair asked.

He nodded, scooting a bit closer to the center of the cage. It was a special one, he could feel the magic thrumming under his hands, that enabled prisoners to breathe and allowed no water in. Like an bubble with iron bars, he thought wryly. 

“Do you know why you are here?”

He shook his head. Pink Hair exchanged a look with Red Beauty.  _Red Beauty??_  Oh god, he wanted to laugh at what his mind had thought up for the guy. Surely he would get killed if he told that to the merman’s face. Flattery or not.

She turned back to him just as he managed to stifle his laugh. “Furihata-kun. You……you are not from around here, are you?”

“No.” He tilted his head in confusion. “I am not a Sea dweller, if that is what you are-”

“I meant,” She interrupted, raising a hand and nearly touching the cage, “You are not a……. _normal_  Land dweller, are you?”

He frowned, “Ex _cuse_  me-”

“You are a Shapeshifter.”

Honey and velvet had a very  _very_  sexy baby once and they somehow lived on the merman’s tongue. Furihata’s brain was sparking madly with excitement -  _excitement?_  - but another, more reasonable, part of it was busy shutting it down saying “ _It’s allure you twat, cool your engines!_ ” The reasonable part was winning right now.

He turned to the male, who was closer than before and it was wrecking  _havoc_  on his senses. He knew he was blushing, his skin felt hot and his ears were pricking and his nose was flaring up with that god awful -  _but oh so enticing, so fucking enticing_  - scent and if he could just wish for one thing before he died it would be to taste how that  _fucking sinful_  smirking mouth felt against his. His hands shoved in that supremely tempting hair, his mouth latched onto those goddammn illegal lips and chests pressed close - so close  _fuuuuuuuck-_

The reasonable part of his brain  _screamed_  in defeat.

“You are, aren’t you?” A smile that should have been banned from all realms, spread on the face of the beautiful,  _beautiful_  merman. Furihata gritted his teeth and forced himself not to breathe until the guy moved safely away. Safe away for his conscience. But even in thought, his body was protesting the distance.  _Traitor_. 

He didn’t. In fact, he came closer to the cage. Furihata shot him a baleful glare.

Surprise etched the arrestingly attractive face. “You don’t know who I am.”

It wasn’t a question. It didn’t sound like one anyway. But the merman seemed a bit …..displeased because of it.

The female made to talk when he lifted a hand. “Its alright, Satsuki.”

Now, the merman not only looked a bit miffed but also….resigned. It was confusing to see. He looked at “Satsuki” and gave a small smile.

She glanced at Furihata sharply, magenta eyes scanning very inch of him, as if calculating his worth and seemingly satisfied, she nodded and returned his smile before swimming away from the Hall. Furihata watched her till she disappeared, feeling strangely bereft of her calming presence. Now he had to face the Epitome of Allure all by himself. He sighed, pitying his poor brain’s efforts to keep him sane.

“I can call her back, if she is who you want.”

He sounded the same as before, all velvety-honey- _goddamn_ -sexy-ish but Furihata could detect he was slightly miffed and glanced up to find the merman carefully picking at his nails with a level of concentration they most certainly didn’t deserve. And now Furihata could only stare at those long fingered, tapered hands with neatly trimmed nails that he knew could grow into viciously sharp claws in an instant.

The reasonable part of his brain cried in frustration as it fought to make him sensible again. It was …… futile.

“What, why?” He blurted the first thing he could think of. So much for his sensible brain.

The merman opened his mouth to retort or to sneer but thought better of it and let his face lapse into the usual relaxed superior mask. “You really don’t know me, do you?”

He shook his head, “Unless you want me to make all sorts of guesses, you might as well……just…you know…..tell me.”

“I suppose. Although you most certainly seem to have been living under a cave if you don’t know me.” The merman sniffed. And brought himself to his full height and continued in a bored drawl. “Very well. I am Akashi Seijuro. King of the Seven Seas, Lord of the Oceans, Purveyor of all that live underwater.” He shifted his brilliant crimson eyes directly to Furihata’s, and his voice picked up some enthusiasm, “And you must be Furihata Kouki, possibly the last of the veteran clan of Shapeshifters, gifted with the Seeing Eye and a treasure that has been hidden away for far  _far_  too long only to land - quite so fortuitously, might I add - on  _my_ lap.”

He gawked. And gawked some more.

“Close your mouth, please. It does not become you.” 

“Wait, what?  _What?_ ” Furihata shook his head, hoping to unhear what….he just heard. “I am …….I am…. _not_  a treasure or whatever.”

Akashi waved a hand dismissively as he made himself comfortable outside the cage. Rocks that most certainly weren’t rocks but some other ridiculously expensive precious stones erupted at his wordless command, beneath him to make a bed. Plants sprouted out of nowhere, near the rocks to wind themselves around them, so Akashi can sit comfortably. Furihata watched as the King relaxed against his newly made bed and look at Furihata, and smile as if he had won a prize. As if Furihata  _was_  the prize.

“I really, really am not.” Furihata didn’t know why he had to repeat himself but Akashi for some reason didn’t believe him and he didn’t want to give anyone a false impression of himself. Even if its more flattering than anything he had ever heard from others. “I am not a treasure. Just a normal your everyday Shapeshifter. And I don’t know who told you I am the last one of us but….that’s wrong too. I think. I don’t  _know??_  Who knows something like that?” He was certain one of them was mad. He was mostly sure that it was Akashi. 

Akashi didn’t seem disturbed. “So you are saying you are  _just_  a shapeshifter?  _Just?_ ”

He nodded, quiet. He is not sure if it could get any weirder than having a conversation with the King of Seas while he is trapped in a cage just minutes after diving into water but he has a feeling it will get weirder soon. He is  _not_ looking forward to that.

“Do you have any idea how powerful you are?” Akashi sat up and leaned closer, looking at Furihata avidly. “Let me tell you something.”

“The freedom you have is not something your kind could afford. Shapeshifters have the power to infiltrate intelligence agencies, topple governments, wreck damage and turn over the people’s sentiments and win wars and cause them at their will. You have the power to not just shift your body to suit your needs but also the power of Clairvoyence, inherited from the Witches that your kind migled with.

“You were weapons bred for politics and fought for by countries. Your forefathers didn’t choose to be clairvoyent or to shapeshift but it was thrust upon them and they were used mercilessly.

“And one time it became so much the your entire clan decided to commit collective suicide.” Akashi collects himself visibly before smiling wistfully at Furihata. “And that’s where you come in.”

“Your father fell for the High Priestess of a small village and had you before the decision was made. No shapeshifter was spared. The elders of your clan decided you all had wrecked enough chaos to incur Fate’s Wrath and wanted everyone to own up to their crimes. He and everyone else died just three days before you were born.

“Your mother did everything to protect you from it, from everything that could make anyone outside the village notice you and take you away.

“You, Kouki, had been hidden away from this all for so long.” Akashi nodded at the struck-dumb look that Furihata was sure was on his face. “Though I don’t blame your mother even a jot for this. If she didn’t do what she did, we…… Well, here we are.” He tries to smile but it wobbles slightly. 

Furihata is left staring at him, trying to process this. He could not imagine his mother, his sweet sweet mother who was strict and calm and impossibly wonderful and supportive do something like this. He could remember asking about his father when he was young, very young and he would see his mother looking somewhere far far away wistfully before sniffing and smiling and ruffling his hair and telling him not to worry about him.

He learnt very early never to ask about his father. If it meant seeing his mother make that sad face again. Sometimes he would be playing chess or cooking with his mother and she would just look at him and shake her head and mutter,”Oh you are just like him” and he would carefully choose to ignore. He just assumed and lived his everyday life with the calm acceptance that his father hadn’t wanted him.

He never thought there was a deeper reason than that.

“Didn’t you ever wonder why no one was like you yet no one looked at you funny?” Akashi asked him gently, trying to make him surface from his meandering thoughts. “Didn’t you wonder why whenever there was news on another’s city’s battle, another country’s loss, the elders looked for you and you gave them a ….what? A statement? To prepare or to ignore? To assure them? That was your Seeing Eye, Kouki. Your mother had that and when you were born, her powers weakened.”

“That’s not-”

“Let me ask you this, did you or did you not See that you had to get the Sea as soon as your village was discovered?”

“That’s not true! You are just making things up! I can’t- I don’t- I-I…..I just had a feeling something was very wrong - very very wrong like when I feel sick and want to throw up -  and that I had to get to the water somehow. Water was safe, that’s what I felt and I-I-water was where I had to…..be. Mother had agreed! Mother told me to get to the shore while she took…care ….of the fire. There was… fire in……the village…my friends….Oh god-” He stopped halfway and stared at Akashi, his eyes blown wide,”Oh god.  _Oh god_. My  _mother!_ ”

“Kouki. Kouki! Look at me, your mother is fine!” Akashi raised his voice, his hands flexing and wanting as if to touch Furihata and refraining barely. “Your mother is fine. She is alive and as all your villagers. They managed to evade the attack. Your identity is still undiscovered. You are safe. Ok? Do you hear me? Don’t worry. Kouki, please.”

Furihata fought for his breath, heaving and panting as his chest relaxed and stopped seizing up. He pushed up his bangs and closed his eyes as he thanked the heavens for the safety of his mother. He exhaled heavily. And frowned. “Then what I am doing here? Why did I have to get here? I can go back now, right?”

“You are here because of the Vow, Kouki.” Akashi hesitated before he plundered on at Furihata’s silence. “Your mother made my father Vow to protect you whenever the time came. The time could be mortal danger or anything equally dire. You are here because your Eye told you to. This is the place you will always be safe.” 

“……..As your prisoner?” Furihata asked incredulously. This day could get weirder. He was sure.

Akashi hesitated even more this time. “No…..” He took a deep breath and muttered softly, “You- you really don’t remember, do you? Oh Father, if you weren’t dead, I would kill you myself right now.”  

He faced Kouki and spoke stoically, looking as if he was readying himself for rejection. “You……they made modifications to your memories to make them less painful. Your mother was a very powerful Priestess, she made us …..forge a Bond and my Father oversaw that but he didn’t want you to ……I am really sure but I can guess he was afraid of the power you have over me and …….really I think he was trying to protect no one but himself, I am honestly not surprised at all. He has always been afraid of Shapeshifters and you are frankly the most powerful one of them all.

“So…….there it is. We Bonded over about two hundred years ago when we were really young, with witnesses involved and my Father, as usual blinded by power, didn’t want you to abuse it and so made your mother wipe our memories. But the Bond stayed - though dormant - and it made you come to me, immediately when you sensed danger. Your Eye is quite respectful of our Bond, might I add-”

“Wait- hold on- what the actual fuck- what- what  _are you saying?_ ”

“I am….hold on…please…” Akashi moved his fingers across the barrier of the cage, fingers flitting over the magic. Furihata could feel a distinct pulse add to the thrumming magic and brain was just shooting itself from the inside with all the information overflow. He didn’t think he could handle it anymore.”….Do you….do you trust me?” Akashi bit his lip and peered at him from underneath his lashes. It was goddamn  _annoying_  the effect it had on Furihata’s heart. He stared back.

“I know you don’t have a reason to…..and I know this day has been too much for you…..”Akashi flounders, “But …..just please….. I need to show you something. Please.” He looks quite adorable pleading like that, as if imploring Furihata to acquiesce. Furihata gives him a short nod.

Immediately the cage vanishes and he is barely able to take a breath before the water closes the gap and drowns him. And he doesn’t drown. He can feel his neck slashing small rips and gills sprouting and fins erupting underneath his elbows and back. A long tail fin takes over where his legs had been and his body shifts to that of a merman like it was just muscle memory. The palace lights flare up on his reddish gold fins, too bright as if he is embracing the newness of his form. He gives himself an experimental swim in his place and finds the movements almost  _too_  easy.

He looks up to find Akashi smiling fondly at him. “Give me your hand, Kouki.” He says gently, a whisper of a plea in his tone as he extends his own hand.

Furihata feels the air around them shift with anticipation as he puts his hand on the palm, resignedly. Weirdest Day Ever.

He is not prepared at all for the painful surge of memories that assault him at the contact.

Its sharp, its brilliant, its like watching a movie of your self from a lens. Its fucking painful too. His brain is trying valiantly and failing in making him slow down the intake but its like a dam that broke and it was flooding him, choking him, pulling him down and down.

So many years, so many memories. They were really really young. Just children. Sitting by the pond. Holding hands. Playing hide and seek. Fighting fake battles - Akashi won everytime, Furihata can feel smugness rolling off him as Akashi sees the memories too. Making pinky promises. Akashi walking for the first time while Furihata runs. Furihata swimming and Akashi laughing at him. Furihata transforming into a huge dog just to lick Akashi’s face and console him when he misses his mother. Furihata transforming into a dragon and flying with Akashi riding him. Akashi gifting Furihata every precious stone he conjures and tells him to keep it.  Akashi making a beaded necklace for the first time and Furihata wearing it proudly. Akashi kisses him on the cheek for that. They blush and laugh and hug.

The vow comes. Its words but words nonetheless and they hold hands and the magic binds them. Red and gold tendrils shoot out and twine around their wrists and disappear. Furihata saying goodbye to Akashi and Akashi held back by his father and promises to see each other tomorrow. Tomorrow never comes.

Furihata chokes, pulls himself out of the memories and sinks to the bed with his hands holding up his face, elbows on his knees.

Akashi sits by him and doesn’t say anything.

“How….why…..Why would-we were just kids-why would they think its okay to take us away from each other?”

Akashi makes a strangled sound, “I am sorry. I am so sorry I didn’t remember you. If I could have, I would have found you a lot sooner.” He clenches his fists on his lap. He bit out tightly, “They …were very successful in making it connect only when it was time.”

Furihata stays silent for a good few minutes. It feels surreal. His mind was trying to catch up and fix all the holes in his memories and working itself out and all he could feel was a strange sort of acceptance. Perhaps the Weirdness has finally reached its peak and nothing could faze him now. He sighs.

He nudges Akashi and asks softly when those brilliantly crimson eyes turn to him, slightly hopeful, “Is it time now?”

Akashi breathes deeply, “Forever and ever.” He vows, his eyes bright. He reaches forward hesitatingly, careful of Furihata’s reaction to snag one of his hands in his. Furihata smiles softly and links their fingers. Akashi closes his eyes at the contact. He opens them and gazes at Furihata adoringly, “You belong here, Kouki. With me. I don’t plan on letting you leave again.”

Furihata’s smile widens. For all the weirdness of today, it all turned out quite okay in the end, didn’t it? He could live with that. He thinks.

He leans forward to place a kiss to the back of Akashi’s hand in his, “I don’t plan to. We had fun, didn’t we?” Akashi nods solemnly thinking the same thing as Furihata. Of all the years wasted, away from each other. He suddenly has a thought and stops short, “But..…when did you remember your memories?”

Akashi grins positively devilishly. He leans to whisper in Furihata’s ear like its a delicious dirty secret, “When you looked at me like you wanted to  _devour_  me.”

Furihata splutters, blushing red to rival Akashi’s hair as Akashi chuckles evilly.


	101. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to post some drabbles which I posted on my tumblr because me being ME, I wanted to do something......different for the 100th chapter of my Oneshots soooooooo here are the small ones that got away.
> 
> Akafuri + Actors AU

“Ren! You don’t have to do this! Please reconsider….please, I-” Furihata hiccuped, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. His voice shook and his body shivered and his lips trembled, “You have to follo-”

“Follow what my father said, yes, Kyou. I know.” Akashi’s eyes glittered dangerously. His jaw was set and his frame was stiff, but he held on. He had to do this. “I have followed him, followed the right path - the set path - all these years.” He took a deep breath, his chest freeing a little with what he was about to do. “I am going to follow what I want for myself from now on.”

Furihata froze. The wind from the open window played with his hair and he knew he looked confused, flushed, wary and hopeful at the same time. It was a look he had practiced for years now. “Yo-you….don’t mean…” He opened and closed his mouth a few times, like a fish. Giving up, he cleared his throat and whispered, “What do you mean by that?”

The moment was too fragile for them both. Akashi took a step forward, carefully, judging every reaction of Furihata, until he was only an arm stretch away. “I mean……would you have me, Kyou? I promise never to lose you again.”

Furihata gasped, tears brimming in his eyes while Akashi stood still, awaiting the answer that would make or break him. 

Dramatic music ebbed and numerous table fans teased with the curtains gently in the background to create a theatrical effect to the scene awaited by millions for over seven seasons of the show, as the director yelled, “Cut! Good job, guys. That’s a wrap! See you next week!”

Akashi relaxed and immediately took off the coat. He took out a tissue and offered it to Furihata. “Lunch?”

Furihata smiled gratefully as he took the tissue, “Sure, why not? Indian today?”

“Yes please. I am trying not to sound like Atsushi, but I have a sudden craving for biryani right now.” Akashi stretched his shoulders, pleased when he heard the cracks. 

Furihata laughed as he led them away.


	102. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Akafuri + Dragonrider AU

“You really need to control your temper, Shou.” Furihata patted the scales, watching them flatten against his palm, “What will people think?”

Shou growled, nostrils flaring indignantly. Furihata folded his arms across his chest and glared right back. “You  _know_ you started it.”

Shou pointedly turned away and retreated further into the cave. 

“Alright alright, I get it.” Furihata sighed. “I will go away now. But don’t think you are forgiven, you big buffoon. Use this time to think about what you have done.” He made a quick escape from the cave entrance when the remark hit the spot and Shou breathed a flame just a touch short of charring him alive. 

He laughed. 

*

“Yuki, it’s your fault too.” Akashi tried to reach out to the dragon but all he received was a slap of a well aimed tail. At least the slap was light, so all was not lost. Yet. 

Akashi grumbled, “You could have not caught up in it, you know? We are supposed to be mature, Yuki. Especially in front of Furihata. What will he think?” Akashi rubbed his hand and thought of Furihata, who had been more than helpful in trying to calm the two snarling dragons. And had not batted an eyelash when Akashi was thrown off -  _slipped_ , he  _slipped,_  not thrown off, definitely not - one time and landed on his butt. 

He hated that he hadn’t been able to calm either of their charges. In front of his long time crush. Well okay, in front of anybody. But still. Embarrassing himself in the presence of one adorable, downright delectable Furihata Kouki would simply not do. Not at all.  

Yuki huffed, snout high in the air and turned away from him. 

Akashi pinched his own nose, breathing deeply to ten, “ _You._ ” He sighed explosively, “Fine. I am leaving you alone now to reflect on your actions. When I get back, I want some semblance of the maturity that flew away to have returned.” 

He walked purposefully away, ignoring the stabbing glare at his back. 

*

“They are young, Akashi. You needn’t worry.” Furihata was the paragon of affability. He had to be. There was no other explanation. “Its schoolyard rivalry, really. Nothing to worry about.”

“Furihata, they burned the nearby forest.” Akashi deadpanned, lugging two cups of hot chocolate to their table. He set them down and pulled a chair for Furihata to sit. “And scared the other dragons too.”

“The older ones ignored it. Its just the kids that got excited. Kagami and Aomine had them under control.” Furihata reasoned, settling down and sipping at his cup. He groaned, the drink was pure nectar in this weather. “I think.” He leaned close to whisper in a low voice, “I think they may like each other a little too much and didn’t know what to do about it.”

Akashi remembered every single lesson on etiquette honed into him to stop himself from spluttering, “ _What?!_ ”

“Think about it! They always go only after each other. They are very docile otherwise and they have this compulsive need to show off when the other is around somewhere near.” Furihata sat back, triumphant. “Frankly, I am a little disappointed it took me this long to figure it out.”   

“You mean to say,” Akashi weighed his words carefully, rolling them about in his mind, “All this break-neck fights and biting and snarling and threatening everyone is actually…… _unresolved sexual tension?_ ”

Furihata clinked his glass with Akashi’s. “Precisely.” He furrowed his brows a little, “Don’t tell me you haven’t done anything like that?”

For the second time in under a minute Akashi had to stop himself from acting like an idiot. An utter fool. “ _No_.” He turned his face away in the off chance Furihata could see through him. It wasn’t possible, right? “You?” He cursed mentally for sounding a little petulant. Ok, a lot. 

“Ha Ha. Very funny.” Furihata grinned. “I have the flirting ability of a toad. No, wait. I bet, if it came to me and a toad, the toad would have a better chance.”

Akashi chuckled, “Well let’s hope it does not come to that, then.” He drank his chocolate down in a single gulp. No sugar, just the way he liked it. He made a note to thank Atsushi later. “We still need to figure out what to do next.”

Furihata sat up as well, mirroring Akashi. “Yeah. Maybe make them play games? They are competitive bastards, both of them, but we need to make them friends at the very least.”

“That would presumably involve them trying not to kill each other on sight.  _All the time._ ” Akashi massaged his temples. No amount of chocolate was going to cure his headache. It was going to involve constant supervision. But….  he would be near Furihata the entire time. So there  _was_  a silver lining to all this. 

Furihata nodded. “If we make them friends, and not arch enemies anymore, I think they can take it from there.”

“Take it….? What, you mean  _boyfriends?_  Do you think they can figure that out by themselves?” 

“Uh, yeah. I mean….all that tension won’t probably stay unresolved when they become friends, you know? Its going to blow up in their face sooner…” Furihata trailed off, a thought stopping him short. He started chuckling. Rather adorably but that was besides the point.  

“What? What is it?”

“Nothing. Nothing.” He heaved and panted on the table top, thunking his fist on it. Akashi refused to conjure up images that involved panting somewhere else.  _Private_  somewhere else. “I just realised my dragon has a better chance of getting laid than I do.”

Akashi snorted. And tried to hold back his own chuckles. Truly, it had to be contagious. “Well.” Perhaps, it was the chocolate. Perhaps, it was the fact that their dragons getting it on before they could was making him feel unnaturally competitive. Perhaps, it was simply too long since he had been impulsive. Or perhaps, Furihata talking about sex was egging him on. It had to be.  

He reached out boldly to snag Furihata’s hand and looked directly at the amused brunet. “We can’t have that now, can we?” And proceeded to lift the hand to place a soft kiss on it. 

His heart was hammering hard, roaring at his eardrums, nearly droning out what Furihata was saying. It was a while before it filtered through his muddled mind. 

“Took you long enough.”


	103. KiKasa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing for this one after a long time and I still don't know how to write Kise. He is so complex Goddamit.  
> Kikasa + It's been 3 days, why haven't you done the laundry yet? AU

Kise scrolled through his Instagram, the responses had been exceptionally good for his last photoshoot. Enough that one of the International brands had called his agent for a visit. He hummed in tune with the music pelting out his headphones, thinking about the places he could visit while overseas for the shoot. If everything went smoothly. Which it will.  _Obviously_. He wasn’t  _Kise Ryouta_  for nothing. 

He bounded up the stairs two at a time to reach his apartment, jamming the key in and bursting inside. “ _Sen_ pai! You wouldn’t  _believe_ what happen-Uhh? Senpai? Is something wrong?”

Kasamatsu crossed his arms over his chest and gazed levelly at him, “I gave you one job.  _One_  job. And, what do you do?”

Kise blinked. And blinked again. “Eh?”

“….You forgot about it totally, didn’t you?” Kasamatsu sighed, counting to ten, slowly. “Kise Ryouta. It has been  _three_  days, three  _fucking_ days, three  _whole_ days since I came over and why is your laundry still not done?”

“Ah.”

“Yes.  _Ah_. Now get your ass moving. We have laundry to do.” Kasamatsu started for the hamper. A hamper which he hadn’t even known he possessed. A hamper which was already brimming with clothes from over god-knows-when-he-had-worn-them. 

Kise stared. And looked around. The kitchen, which had been notoriously messy and stinking was modestly clean now. As was the living room. And, he would bet his life savings, his bedroom was probably too. He grinned, wide and bright, the one that set hearts palpitating rapidly all around the world. “ _Senpai!_ ”

Kasamatsu glared at him over the shoulder, “Don’t think you are off the hook. Get on with it, will you?”

Kise beamed at him, happy to do his bidding, “Of course! Now, ah I don’t think I have the detergent…..”

“ _What?!_ ”

Kise laughed fondly, watching him rant and storm off to the departmental store. He hadn’t had the chance to share the good news yet. But, feeling the two tickets in his pocket, he thought the overseas shoot would a great way to pay back for all the care his boyfriend bestowed him with. 


	104. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok ok this is not a full fledged drabble because it started out as a scenario I imagined, I still love it a lot and I wanted to share it here. 
> 
> Akafuri + galaxy

I headcanon Furihata’s family to be settled in Tokyo but their hometown from near the beach somewhere like Hokkaido etc. So I can imagine Kouki growing up near the beach and playing the sand and listening to the sound of the ocean from his bedroom window. Then, they moved to Tokyo for work when he was 10-11 and settled there. I dont know if you have stayed near the ocean but if you visit it at night, you can lie in the sand and if its a clear night you can see the whole Milky Way sometimes. Its simply wonderful. The stars twinkle like gems stitched into cloth that is the sky and the ocean glitters with whenever that happens. 

He is in Tokyo now and he misses it. He knows that it cant be helped. He knows he cant feel bad because moving here led him to more exposure more opportunities associated with big bad cities that thrive on “The Dream” motto. But. He wakes up night after night missing the calming sounds of the sea and white sand tickling his toes and the moon shining benevolently from above. 

Its worsens even more when he moves into Tokyo University Dorms. Atleast then he had his family but here he is alone and he has to risk pissing off his roommates with his 4 hour sleep schedule that leaves less space for any cordiality that might have existed. 

Enter Akashi as Roommate Number Two after Roommate Number One files a complaint and fucks off to be with someone else. 

Akashi has lesser sleep all the time because there is just too much to do and he is the roommate who would be awake at the slightest sound and is ready to argue the fucker to death not caring whether its 3AM or not. He is NEVER NOT in full control of his functionalities. And he wakes up everytime Furi wakes up and stays up with him 

“No its fine, Furihata. I have some notes to recheck thats all. Its nothing to worry about.” 

“Its fine Furihata, I am up now, shall I make coffee? Or tea. I personally would love tea.” 

“No its fine Furi, thank you for gifting me this Assam Tea, shall I make some for us?” 

“Its all right, Furi, its quite cold, do you need another sweater?”

“No its fine Kouki, we need to a run through of our presentation anyway. It doesnt matter that we already went through one. There is no such thing as being over prepared.”

“Its all right Kouki. I heard your brother is getting married. Convey my congratulations to him. Will you be taking a whole week off?”

“Hush Kouki, its fine, cry it out. I am sure you miss your home terribly. But i am very glad you came back. It hasnt been the same without you.”

“There there Kouki. Do you…you can….I can….I mean…can I hug you? Is this comfortable? Ah wait, my hand here would be better. Oh could you shift your shoulder, you are thin and its poking my lung. Apologies……do you….do you want to talk about it?”

Akashi rubs Kouki’s back in comforting circles the whole time. Kouki has snoozed off on his chest and it feels wonderful to have this solid weight on him even though that hair is tickling his chin. And akashi makes a plan just before he dozes off.

Two days later, they are sneaking off the dorms to the rooftop of one of the Akashi Towers in Tokyo and they are lying on the makeshift blanket and staring up the stars. Those that werent visible from below due to the immense light pollution, are dazzlingly clear from up here. Furihata is stuck in a speechless shock as the stars wink at him like playful siblings, the moon showering him with much bereft moonlight as if welcoming him back after a long time and the traffic sounds from below act as white noise in the background. 

He turns to Akashi slowly with disbelieving eyes and finds him holding a music player. “This should do it.”

The sounds emerge careful, slow but Furihata feels tears rise up in his eyes. Those were the sounds of the ocean, the lapping of waves upon the shore again and again and its not just any beach. He knows Akashi went off last night but he didn’t know Akashi had gone to Hokkaido and stayed up with a recorder and sat in the sand and was making this for him. 

He lunges.

Its rushed, its fierce and its wet. The kiss is more teeth and desperation than anything. But Furihata is gripping him around his neck and Akashi is crushing  Furihata to him, and it feels fucking perfect. 

The stars shine brighter, happier for their brother.

The sea crashes against the shore, roaring in triumph.   

The moon looks on from above. All is perfect for his little one, now.


	105. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> akafuri + Furihata is an amateur Japanese athelete, wanted to be trained by Akashi, a world class trainer. He gathered up his courage to ask Akashi to train him but with a slip of a tongue asked him to go on a date instead.

“He is here. Oh shit, he is here, isn’t he?” Furihata whispered furiously, his hair all mussed up by his fingers and eyes wild, “Oh  _fuck_ , he is gonna look and  _not_  like what he is seeing, because, who the fuck am I kidding this is  _Akashi Seijuro_  and I-”

“You are Furihata Kouki, one of the best Seekers I have seen.” Riko shushed him, holding his shoulders and giving him a shake he direly needed. She was  _this_  close to thwacking him with the Fan. “Just go do your thing and if he chooses someone else……well we can always set his broom on fire.” 

Furihata shuddered. “No. No brooms. No fire.  _Promise_  me. I don’t want a repeat of that. Hyuuga will kill  _me_  if you wreck damage on some poor guy.  _Again_.”

Riko pulled back to examine her nails, her face smug, “Well, then, that depends on you, now, doesn’t it?”

“I hate you,” Furihata vowed vehemently as he rolled his shoulders and went back to the pitch. 

For Akashi’s broom’s - which probably was of some limited edition that cost more than his entire wardrobe - sake, he hoped he would get selected. 

*

“Furihata-san, is it?” A voice from behind pulled him.  _So close_ , he groaned. So close to the showers where he could hide in shame until everyone left. “A word, if I may?”

Sighing heavily, he turned and sharply inhaled. The man he was trying his hardest to avoid was standing in front of him looking at him tentatively. “A-A-Akashi-san!”

Akashi opened his mouth and closed it and opened and closed and frowned and took a deep breath and gave a resigned nod. 

He cleared his throat quite forcibly, “Furihata-san.”

Furihata waited, tongue-tied, throat all choked up, suddenly parched - how was that even  _possible_  at the same time? - forcing his mouth to remain shut.

“You-ah-  _cough cough_ -You flew well today.” Akashi cleared his throat. Again. Did he need cough drops? Akashi brought up his hand to soothe his throat and was frowning and had pinkish spots high on his cheekbones. So maybe, a fever? “I liked-I think-It’s good to see how your feints were very effective.”

Furihata wanted to call Riko before he remembered to respond, “Tha-Thank you!” He coughed too - oh shit it was spreading; Riko will kill him if he got infected - “I-I could have done be-better, I just-I know-I can-Urgh! Sorry! Excuse me! I have to-I need to  _go!_ ”

“Ah-what?  _Wait!_  Furihata-san! I was just about to-I wanted to-I mean,” Akashi spoke rapidly, hand outstretched to stop Furihata from retreating to the safety of the showers - which were beckoning him rather  temptingly, and Akashi blurted, “Wouldyoumindcomingtodinnerwithme?”

Wait.  _What?_

Furihata gaped at Akashi. Who was looking shocked as well. “Uhm.”

“ _To discuss Seeking skills!_ ” Akashi, if he could have, would have screeched. But it came out as a wheeze, “Not like, you know. Completely professional. I mean-I wouldn’t mind-You are very-Uhm-” He stopped, sighing deeply. He rubbed a hand over his face. 

Furihata was pretty sure they were both burning with fever if they were so red in the face. Funnily his heart was jumping too. Maybe it was more serious. A heart problem? That was worrying.

Akashi was looking at him askance, “Um…..would you…..would you mind saying something?” He hesitated even more, “Please?”

“Yes.” 

Furihata didn’t know what he was saying yes to. But….he didn’t think it mattered. His heart was giving a funny flip at the small smile Akashi was giving him. 

He should get his heart checked first.


	106. Akafuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY AKAFURI DAY!
> 
> akafuri + aliens

Akashi heard the door slam. The forced eviction of shoes from feet and landing in thuds against the wall that definitely wasn’t the place for shoes and the loud wheeze of the couch as Furihata flung himself bodily onto the couch face down on the cushions. Akashi didn’t say anything. 

“Welcome.” Well, until now, anyway. 

The couch groaned. Okay Furihata groaned but it was fun and dramatic to say ‘ _the couch groaned_ ’. Akashi bit the inside of his cheek at his own joke. Nobody got how funny he was. Not even Furihata. Who would look at him with a small barely-there smile and that exasperated and yet …….sort of  _fond_ look on his face when he made a pun. Like he was saying ‘Why do I even put up with you when you are so ridiculous’ without actually saying it. Akashi always pretended to be annoyed by it but secretly he liked it when Furihata smiled that smile at him. Not that he would ever say that out loud.

Just thinking about that smile made Akashi’s chest squeeze a little too tightly. He wondered if he had picked up a disease on this planet. That would be bothersome. Perhaps he should summon Mibuchi. 

“-you would think they would know by now. But, nope!-” Furihata was saying something, or more like, moaning something into the couch cushion and Akashi moved with his new ‘legs’ - humans had ten toes  _only ten toes_  oh gosh no wonder Furihata kept tripping on flat surfaces for absolutely no reason! - and sat gingerly on the armrest near Furihata’s head. “I am so tired of this goddamit. Four years. Four  _years_ , Akashi! Of being step-siblings with that savage  _beast_  and not once did he have a good word for me.  _Not once_ -” 

Furihata continued mumbling and muffling his words into the cushion and Akashi tried his level-best to understand - he had been studying the habits of humans from the ‘TV’ Furihata had shown him how to use and almost all those ‘Kaydrama’ that ran on it said you should pat ‘head’ repeatedly and softly and make ‘mhm’ noises. And Akashi was nothing but a good, diligent, student. He patted Furihata’s head softly and repeatedly and made ‘mhm’ sounds in regular intervals. 

He wondered how human hair could be so soft and fluffy and nice against his ‘hand skin’ and when he had asked about it, Furihata had blushed and fled, muttering about ‘oblivious idiot’ and ‘no filter for fuck’s sake’. Akashi hadn’t known what to make of it. 

Furihata tapered off and Akashi didn’t stop patting his head. He was beginning to like it. A bit. More than a bit. Hmm. This may need some study. Akashi crossed his legs and hummed a tune he had heard on the TV. It was terrible and had jarred his hearing when he had heard the first time but it had somehow gotten stuck in his head and he found himself, to his utter horror, humming it often. He shot a vicious glare at the TV as if it was its fault. Which it totally was. Obviously.

Furihata caught it, “Are you still mad at the TV?” 

“It knows, Kouki. It knows. It is cackling in glee at making me do its bidding.”

Furihata sighed and shook his head ruefully, “It……doesn’t. I don’t know how many times I need to-”

“Yes, yes its an ‘appliance’ that runs on eclekti-city but how do you explain it knows what shows I want to watch? How do you explain how it knows which day it is today and what is happening somewhere so far away?” Akashi shot another glare at the TV that is definitely turned off, and obviously pretending to be innocent. “Sorcery, I tell you. Black Magic. The Prophets back home will be stunned to discover such Higher Power resides on Earth  _at every home_. How easy it was to control humans. I am surprised you have lasted this long without an invasion.”

“Soooooo, how  _does_  news travel in your planet?”

“Telepathy, of course. If something is to be known to someone or to a group at large, we just convey through our minds. Our Lifelines are connected to the Priestesses in Power. If someone is in danger or in need of help, they know immediately.” Akashi shrugged and resumed patting Furihata’s head. He didn’t want to think about stopping anytime soon. 

He switched gears when he realised he has conveyed things regarding his kind. He was here to study humans, not the other way around. “Well, that doesn’t matter now. You tell me who upset you.” Akashi stops, and nearly breaks his neck when he turns to Furihata, “Wait, should I take care of it? I can, of course, but I am not permitted to harm humans. Unless under life threatening circumstances. Was your life threatened? Were you in physical danger? Where does your step-sibling dwell?” Akashi starts to get up when Furihata grabs him back onto the couch.

“No, no,  _nonono_ , I am fine. Here  _see!_  All limbs accounted for. Nothing to worry about.” Furihata hurries to placate him. God knows what Akashi was capable of. Mibuchi had said Akashi was their leader and being a leader meant he was powerful to a great extent, right? Either way, Furihata didn’t want to find out. 

Akashi looked scary enough with the fiery red hair and eyes that blazed deep into your soul. Furihata secretly loved them. They were so expressive and intense and he felt pleasant shivers go through him every time Akashi made eye-contact. Which was often, what with them living together. It was disastrous for his heart. Was it Alien Magic? It must be Alien Magic. No human alive made him feel that way. “I was….just thinking about how……people whom you care about should …….you know, what’s that word? Um….. Reciprocate? Yeah, that’s the one.  _Reciprocate_.”

Akashi looked confused. And when he was confused he tilted his head to the side with his eyes looking all adorable and red hair falling artfully over his face that Furihata couldn’t stand it. No one could stand it. He melted. He had a hard time believing this was indeed an alien living in house for a reconnaissance mission but all he knew was this cute too-beautiful-to-be-true guy who looked adorably confused all the fucking time. Dammit. It was  _so_  not good for his heart. 

“I mean,” Furihata said, “If you like someone, family or otherwise, you would….want to know things about them, right? Things they tell, things they don’t tell but you know that’s how they are and all that.”

Akashi considered, “Like how you don’t like towels on the bathroom floor?” 

“Exactly! Yes!” Furihata smiled, relieved. Akashi smiled back. It was wonderful to see Furihata smile like that. At him. Like Akashi did something to put it there. And that the effort had paid off. It made Akashi’s chest puff up in pride. “That’s what I meant about things that people don’t particularly say, but they like it that way anyway. If you care about someone you should take the effort to know, for example, how they take their tea, you know? That’s common knowledge.”

“Too much milk and too much sugar.” Akashi answered promptly. 

Furihata stopped and stayed silent and sat up and faced Akashi slowly, “What?”

“Too much milk and too much sugar,” Akashi repeated slowly as if Furihata hadn’t heard him the first time. He missed petting Furihata’s head. Not that he would voice it out loud. “That’s how you take your tea. Although it makes me slightly scared that you don’t exercise at all and still have that much sugar for your daily intake-”

“Wait,  _what?_ ”

“I  _said_ , that much sugar-”

“ _I didn’t mean that!_  I meant…..why would you know how I take…” Furihata looked wild, face pinking all of a sudden. Akashi wondered what caused it. “My tea…how? I- _why?_ ”

“You said it yourself,” Akashi informed, confused, tilting his head again and Furihata wants to gnash his teeth at the adorableness of it all. Furihata’s heart is fluttering like a mad hummingbird and he knew his face was blushing a color rivaling Akashi’s hair. Akashi continued, blissfully ignoring the crisis he was putting Furihata through, “If you care about someone, you know how they take their tea.”

Oh.

Akashi’s eyes went wide as he realised what he had said.

Akashi felt himself color, felt his blood rush to his face and tips of his ears, he knew he was pinking up just like Furihata. He braved himself to look at Furihata and promptly colored harder when he saw Furihata smiling at him. Smiling like Akashi was the single most important thing in the world. In Furihata’s world. Too wide and too bright. Sucking in all of the light from the room and shining like a beacon. Eyes crinkling in the corners and dimples on both cheeks. It must hurt but Furihata doesn’t seem to be in any pain. All the pain seemed to be in Akashi’s chest. Strange. 

“Its….Its hard not to,” Akashi felt the need to say something, anything to make Furihata stop smiling at him like that. It was making the insides of his body all tingly and jittery. He should get himself checked. Maybe he was malfunctioning.

Furihata laughed and it was a delightful sound. All light and happy and carefree. And Akashi couldn’t help but pink harder and felt his chest tightening further, nearly choking him. That was until Furihata said softly, almost reverently, “I care about you too, Sei.”

It took a full minute before his brain processed the words but when it did, Akashi felt his face split in half with the force of his smile. Staring wondrously at the dark pink Furihata was sporting on his face and knowing he was in the same state possibly, he made a note to check both of them up with Mibuchi at the earliest. 

But for now, he was satisfyingly happy and light and carefree to sit here on an old wheezing and lumpy couch with the human he cared for. And who cared for him back. 

 


End file.
